Tomorrow and After
by BlackVelvetBand
Summary: Set five years after the events of Tossed Aside. Nanao is involved in a strange accident which will change the course of her relationship with her captain forever...NOW COMPLETE!
1. Having Gotten Used to It

A/N: I'm back! Here's something I've been slowly working on for months now. The sequel to Tossed Aside. Though the first chapter sort of sets the stage, it'll get more exciting soon, I promise. Don't forget to review!

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**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter One: Having Gotten Used to It**

Nanao moved her neck from side to side, trying to relax the muscles in her shoulder which had grown stiff from sitting so long hunched over the latest deluge of paperwork. Straightening her back, which she had allowed to slump from its usual perfect posture due to the absence of anyone from the Eighth Division Office, she rubbed her tired eyes behind her trademark glasses. Nanao blinked, startled to find a large bouquet of white roses in front of nose. Her gaze traveled from the beautiful full blossoms to the familiar sun-browned hand that presented them.

"What are these for?" she asked, looking up into the smiling face of Kyōraku Shunsui.

"Why, our anniversary of course!" Shunsui cried indignantly. "How could you forget, Nanao-chan?"

"How can I even hope to remember when we have so many," Nanao countered, taking the flowers out of his hands and standing up. She drew the already occupied vase on the corner of her desk closer to her. The squad's third seat had given the container to Nanao for the sole purpose of holding all of the flowers Shunsui brought her on a weekly basis.

"What are we celebrating today?" Nanao asked, as she arranged the roses among the red lilies Shunsui had given her on the "Anniversary of the Day their Reiatsus Met for the First Time."

"You really don't remember, Nanao-chan?" Shunsui rumbled gently, coming to encase her between the desk and his body.

"I really have no idea," Nanao lied, trying to remain unwavering as the warmth from his front seeped invitingly into her back. She had more work that she wanted to complete before retiring for the evening but Shunsui's ability to influence her carefully managed schedules had only grown over the past years.

"Why, my lovely Nanao-chan, today is the fifth anniversary of the night that I brought you dinner before turning you around, sitting you on this very desk," he mimicked his words with a delighted smirk. "And―"

His next words were effectively cut off as Nanao fisted her hand in the front of his uniform and brought his lips down to meet hers. Shunsui growled playfully in approval, grasping her hips in his hands and pressing her closer to him.

"Straight to the point as always, Nanao-chan," Shunsui grinned when they broke apart a few moments later.

"Well, one of us has to be," Nanao commented dryly, though she could not effectively hide the small smile that was playing on her slightly swollen lips. "Otherwise, nothing would get done around here. Now, kindly remove yourself from the premises so I can finish this week's paperwork." She slid off of the desk and made to move around him.

"Come now, Nanao," Shunsui said, blocking her attempt. "Even fukutaichōs are allowed to take some time off to enjoy special occasions." He brought a hand up to caress the curve of the face that he had memorized long before he had been allowed to touch it freely.

"Every day is a special occasion with us," Nanao argued, placing a hand on his chest and attempting to remove him from her path.

"Shouldn't it be?" Shunsui remarked happily, plucking a protesting Nanao off of her feet and sitting her on the desk once more. "Now, where were we?" he said with an air of mock thoughtfulness. "Ah, yes, I believe we were _here_." He swept down to cover her lips with his once more, but Nanao turned stubbornly away. Not one to be daunted, Shunsui allowed his lips to settle on the graceful column of her throat.

"Shunsui, I might be wrong," Nanao attempted to point out even as she leant into his touch.

"Doubtful," Shunsui murmured against her skin.

"True," Nanao concurred, her hands wrapping around him of their own accord. "However, I believe that the occasion in question occurred well after sundown."

"Your point, Nanao?" Shunsui breathed in her ear, his teeth catching gently on the lobe.

"Doesn't that mean that I should be allowed several more hours to work prior to beginning this…reenactment?" she inquired, her breath catching slightly.

"Nanao-chan, we've known each other for how long now?" Shunsui said lightly as he allowed his hands to meander her torso.

"Too long, I'm sure," she fairly moaned.

"You wound me, Nanao," he returned, discarding his hat and reaching for her once more. "My point was that you should know by now that celebrations in the noble house of Kyōraku always begin at_ least_ three hours prior to the occasion and last _long_ into the early hours of the morning."

Nanao couldn't suppress a shudder of anticipation. She shifted, tucking her feet underneath her, and raising herself onto her knees. She wrapped her arm around his neck, her hand trailing down between the, to loosen the aqua sash around his waist. Shunsui broke the kiss, reaching up to remove her glasses.

"What are you doing?" she asked dazedly, as he removed the pins from her hair, throwing them over his shoulder without concern.

"Taking your glasses off and letting the pins out of your hair. They were getting in my way," he explained, his hand entwining itself in her newly-freed tresses.

"Is that really appropriate in the office?" Nanao asked.

"I think that's a strange question, seeing as you're currently in the process of removing my clothing," Shunsui pointed out.

"Am I?" Nanao questioned breathlessly, as his palms grazed over newly bared skin.

"Well, you were," he corrected, delighting in the way she relaxed into him. "Yare, Nanao," he remarked. "I remember a time when you couldn't look at me without blushing. Look how far you've progressed."

"Well, we can all _see_ that," interjected an amused voice from the door.

With a surprised scream, Nanao fairly fell off of the desk in her haste to dart behind the relative cover provided by her lover's broad back.

Matsumoto clicked her tongue in a patronizing manner as she fairly strolled over to the large office window to in order to pull the screen down. "You two really are terrible, having sex in broad daylight in front of the open window." She let out an airy giggle while she faced the wall, allowing her friends time to dress themselves. "I'm glad I came when I did or else you would have put on quite a show for those heading to the mess hall early."

"What would we do without you?" Nanao said, rolling eyes.

"Well, I believe that's obvious," Shunsui quipped as he adjusted the small glass pendant around Nanao's neck, which held a flower cut from his favorite haori, so that it hung properly.

"As grateful as we are for your timely arrival," Nanao said, stepping out from around the desk, "may I inquire as to the reason for your visit?"

"Of course you can," Matsumoto replied with a grin as she turned around. "It's past five o'clock and you were supposed to come and help Okuni train for the placement competition tomorrow."

"We're having a placement competition tomorrow?" Shunsui asked, scratching his head. It was news to him.

"Yes, we are," Nanao said, exasperation evident in her voice. "It's been five years since the last one and most of the other squads hold them every year. You would know this if you listened to me every once and a while." She smacked his chest angrily with the back of her hand. He snatched the small appendage out of the air and pressed it palm down over his heart.

"How can say such a cruel thing to me Nanao-chan when this heart beats only for you!" he exclaimed, sticking his bottom lip out in an overly pathetic manner.

"That won't work on me anymore," Nanao proclaimed as she resisted his insistent movements to draw her closer.

"You've always been a terrible liar," Matsumoto laughed. It was not hard to notice the faint smile that was a clear sign that Shunsui's antics did, in fact, melt the heart that Nanao had once tried so hard to keep guarded from him.

Nanao adjusted her glasses in a trademark gesture of annoyance. "I'll be right back," she sighed as she crossed to the staircase which led upstairs to Shunsui's quarters.

"Where are you going?" Shunsui asked with a knowing look at Matsumoto. His Nanao-chan was embarrassed at her noticeable (for Nanao anyway) display of affection.

"To get my zanpakutō," her voice called from the landing.

"Come now, Nanao," Shunsui chided. "Okuni-san is still nowhere near skilled enough to best your clever kidō."

"It never hurts to be prepared," she snapped, tucking the tantō inside her shirt. Shunsui smiled. Despite the fact that it had been several years since Nanao had clandestinely moved most of her things to his quarters, it still gave him a feeling of immense satisfaction to know that Nanao no longer kept her zanpakutō hidden in her shirt at all times like she used to. Instead, it sat demurely on the mahogany shelf on the bookcase he had installed in their bedroom to house her favorite books, right next to his Katen Kyōkotsu.

He sighed almost audibly when he noticed that Nanao had not brought down his zanpakutō. The beautiful spring sunlight had an indescribably invigorating quality to it, inspiring him to be active. Denied the type of exercise he would have preferred, Shunsui thought that he might enjoy a friendly spar. Maybe Matsumoto's little ice-dragon would entertain him for a while.

"Nanao-chan," he asked, his tone actually revealing true hurt. "Why didn't you bring my Katen Kyōkotsu down with you? They sit on the same shelf. Would it have been so much trouble―"

"We're not discussing this now, _sir_," Nanao practically hissed over Shunsui's complaint. Matsumoto glanced between the two startled at the sudden shift in mood.

Shunsui closed his eyes heavily for a moment, reminding himself that he truly did love Nanao no matter how difficult she was. He plastered an incredibly fake smile on his face, an expression which garnered an immediate look of suspicion from Matsumoto. Nanao determinedly avoided Shunsui's gaze, already pulling out a hairbrush and clip from her desk drawer in order to once again return her hair to prim confinement.

Shunsui resisted the urge to run his hand over his face in another defeat to Nanao. Honestly, it seemed that despite the fact that he had won the first round, namely getting Nanao to enter into a relationship with him at all, the smaller day to day victories sometimes seemed harder to achieve. She was a challenging woman sometimes, but it was that quality that kept his days interesting he supposed. With no other choice left to him, Shunsui swept up the stairs to retrieve his own zanpakutō.

"Shall we go, my lovely ladies?" he crooned a moment later,Katen Kyōkotsu strapped nonchalantly around his waist, a large bottle in his hand. He donned the white captain's haori that Nanao had folded neatly over his desk chair in his absence.

"Why thank you, gracious Nanao-chan," Shunsui said, as he accepted his pink haori which Nanao held out to him in a silent peace offering. He took the garment and slung it over his shoulder, allowing it to dangle from one finger.

Shunsui made a sweeping gesture with the hand holding the large bottle, indicating for Nanao and Matsumoto to exit first. Smiling in gratitude at the chivalrous gesture Matsumoto followed the actions intent, stepping out into the bright sunlight. Nanao did the same, casting a dark look at the bottle. "You're seriously not going to handle a zanpakutō while drinking?" she queried archly.

"Relax, my caring Nanao-chan, it's only filled with water in case you overwork yourself training Okuni-san." He patted her on the head with the hand holding his haori, giving her a face full of pink silk. "We can't have you passing out from exhaustion, can we?"

"I don't believe I have a past history of passing out from exhaustion," Nanao remarked icily.

"Oh, come on Nanao," Matsumoto interrupted. "Poor Shunsui-san was only trying to do something nice for you. You didn't seem to mind him so much a few minutes ago," she added slyly.

Nanao didn't reply, merely adjusted her glasses and sped up her pace. Matsumoto brushed as strand of her immaculate hair out of her eyes and cast an unsure glance at Shunsui. She did not know exactly what had triggered Nanao's rather confusing change in demeanor from the warm woman melting into her lover's arms into the Nanao that resembled the brisk fukutaichō from her first days in the Eighth Division.

Uncomfortable and slightly concerned, she had no idea what to do but brush it off with her usual tactic of humor. "Oh well, Shunsui-san," she said in an over-the-top voice as a large group of Academy students passed by them. "I can't stand the sight of a poor man walking all by his lonesome. I'll walk with you."

Shunsui gave a wry smile. "Oh, how kind you are, Ran-san," he said melodramatically. "You may have my arm but you cannot have my heart. For better or worse it belongs solely to my sadistic Nanao-chan!"

Matsumoto giggled and taking the bottle from his hands, slipped her own hand through Shunsui's elbow. The two slid easily into vapid conversation which both friends knew was merely biding them time until they could exchange more meaningful words.

- - -

By the time Matsumoto and Shunsui reached the clearing near in the forest near the Tenth Division, Nanao was already fully immersed into the middle of the training session. She was circling a girl a few inches shorter than herself with her long chestnut hair pulled away from her face in a high ponytail. The girl held a large, deadly looking steel bladed fan in her hands which sparkled in the early evening sunlight. The glow of Nanao's kidō caught the sequins which bedecked the colorful sash the girl had slung around one shoulder and across her hips, throwing the sweat beading down the girls forehead into stark relief.

"Takahashi! Stop favoring your right side," Hitsugaya Toshirō barked from a few feet away where he stood with his arms crossed against his chest, his teal eyes narrowed as he observed the girl fight.

"Mmm, now there's a sight for sore eyes," Matsumoto said, sagging slightly against her friend as her eyes took in her captain, framed by the fiery glow of the sky. He had taken off the white haori which denoted his rank and the plain black of his uniform highlighted his unusual hair color.

"Weren't you with your little ice-dragon before you interrupted my preferred exercise for the day?" Shunsui asked amusedly. It was nice to see Matsumoto, who had strayed from partner to partner for so long because Gin had denied her the affection she deserved, so happily enamored of her shorter, grumpy Taichō.

Hitsugaya Toshirō appeared to be Matsumoto's opposite in almost every aspect but somehow they fit. In a way, they reminded Shunsui of himself and Nanao except for the fact that Toshiro seemed much more easily persuaded of Matsumoto's depth of affection than Nanao was.

Suddenly, Shunsui felt slightly strangled. He reached up with his free hand and plucked his favorite straw hat off of his head, depositing it next to Hitsugaya's discarded haori on a large flat boulder. Matsumoto removed her hand from his elbow and glanced up at him in question.

"Come," he said, shedding his own haoris with a flourish and resting his palms on the hilts of his zanpakutō, "it's been a while since we sparred, Ran-san."

Matsumoto's eyes widened. She knew from previous experience that Shunsui only spared when struck with the rare mood or agitated beyond the point of being aided by sake's blissful embrace of ignorance. She was guessing his motive for requesting a match was the second.

"Are you still afraid of making beautiful women bleed?" Matsumoto teased, placing the bottle she had helped to carry down on the surface of the boulder and removing her pink scarf.

"More than ever," Shunsui returned evenly. "Especially since I have a definite chance of being turned into a popsicle if I accidentally draw your blood."

"I don't think we'll have to worry about that," Matsumoto said with a confident smile. "You won't get close enough to cut me, but that doesn't mean you can't try!"

The friends moved apart, a silent understanding to throw themselves into the match until all of the muscles in the body were loosened, including the tongue. _It could take a while_, Matsumoto mused as she watched one of the most powerful captains in the Seireitei unsheathe his zanpakutō. Despite his reputation as a lazy womanizer, there were few shinigami brave enough to face Kyōraku Shunsui without quaking in fear and Matsumoto Rangiku was one of them.

Matsumoto had known Shunsui ever since just after her graduation from the Academy. She had been invited by some former classmates who had been transferred to the Eighth, Matsumoto had accompanied them to the bar in the fifth district of the Rukongai that the members of the Eighth often frequented. Having not known he was a captain at the time, she easily found a kindred spirit in the man who, draped in fluorescent pink, professed to love sake and women more than anything else in the world.

_Matsumoto surveyed the handsome man across the table as he loudly flirted with the kimono-clad barmaid. She would have easily dismissed this apparent womanizer if she didn't notice the way his eyes, though they sparkled kindly in the flickering light of the bar, remained guarded. She recognized the look from her own mirror before she went out every night. He was looking to forget. _

"_Kyōraku Taichō!" a shinigami nearly tripped over his own feet in his drunken effort to reach his captain. Matsumoto raised an eyebrow. The man…Kyoraku _Taichō_ apparently, glanced at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Her face flushed, but not from the drink. They had been enjoying each other's company all evening. He had not informed her of his station, merely asking her to address him as Shunsui. _

"_It's an _emergency_, sir!" a female shinigami careened into the man in front of her. _

"_Yes, my ducklings?" the captain responded as they gazed on him with pleading eyes. _

"_We're out of sake, sir!" the female supplied, tugging insistently on his sleeve. _

"_And Yui says she won't spend the night with me if she doesn't get anymore sake," the man interjected desperately. The woman nodded her head vigorously. Matsumoto could tell from experience that the man would get what he wanted _only_ if neither one of them had any more sake. Both looked close to passing out. _

_Shunsui seemed to see this too, as he grinned genially. "Well we can't have that, can we?" he gestured towards the barmaid. "More sake all around!" _

_This pronouncement was met with an ecstatic drunken cheer. Matsumoto raised her glass in a gesture so fluid that her arm seemed almost to be an extension of the liquid she was sipping._

_Shunsui followed the gesture with an appreciative eye. "Come now, Rangiku-san," he said in a falsely pleading tone, "don't look at me like that." _

"_Taichō, huh?" she asked, taking a long sip. _

"_Kyōraku Shunsui, Taichō of the Eighth Division," he returned gallantly, tilting his hat in her direction. _

"_I didn't know Taichōs were in the habit of frequenting bars and flirting with barmaids," she remarked sweetly, flicking her much shorter hair out of her face._

"_I see my reputation does not precede me," Shunsui remarked as though pained. "I'll have to rectify that. Perhaps, you just have not met the right kind of Taichō." Matsumoto giggled at his reply and watched with amused eyes as the barmaid returned with a tray brimming with sake which the gathered shinigami dove on like rabid hollows._

"_That was kind of you," Matsumoto remarked, glancing to where Yui and her almost partner were passed out on the table together. _

"_They have been eyeing each other for months," Shunsui replied, taking a calculating sip of his own drink. "I believe that a couple's first time together should be something worth remembering. Able to be remembered. It may not last but I've found memories like that make the end less painful…" He looked at her with such a sad smile, that Matsumoto's enormous heart reached out to this man. _

_At the beginning of the night Kyōraku Shunsui had seemed like a man who lived life to the fullest. One who raised his glass to toast new beginnings and didn't dwell on endings. Now, though, it seemed as if he had seen more of the latter than the former. _

_On impulse, Matsumoto rose from her seat and crossed around the table, seating herself gracefully on the cushion directly next to his. "I think that's very wise of you, Kyōraku Taichō," she commented, pouring them both another cup of sake. _

"_It's my duty, isn't it? To protect my subordinates, even from regret, if I can?" He chuckled slightly and removed his hat, setting it down on the table. "It's a good thing that I ordered more sake," he sighed. "It's awful being the only nearly sober ones in the room, isn't it Rangiku-san?" _

_Matsumoto shifted sideways so that she could survey him better. She leant her elbow on the table, a move which was usually reserved to showcase her assets, but tonight was only for the purpose of supporting her tired head. She didn't really mind the familiar way he addressed her, as a part of her felt like she knew him already. She could see right through his loud flirtation to recognize that he too was searching for something…_someone

_He turned almost curiously and gauged the expression on her beautiful face. She had responded to his small smile with one of her own. A sad smile which turned her light eyes the steel gray of a winter sky that whispered of ceaseless betrayal. Matsumoto Rangiku's heart was bleeding as they sat drinking sake and Shunsui would bet one of his zanpakutō that it only seemed to heal whenever she was near the man who had wounded it. _

_He tried to lighten the mood with a joke._ _"Like what you see?" _

"_Yes," she responded, the answer holding no hint of flirtatious jest._

_He raised an eyebrow over the rim of his sake glass, deciding to wait until their next meeting to ask what man had denied himself the beauty in front of him._ _"And what is that?"_

"_Someone who's waiting for something… Looking for something," she replied. _

_He regarded her a moment, surprised at the unexpected depth her bubbly manner and alluring looks hid. Their eyes met as one assessed the other. An agreement seemed to pass between the two that the answer they were searching for did not lay within the other. _But it never hurts to have company on long journeys_, Shunsui mused._

"_Will you keep me company while I wait, Ran-san?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her in friendly manner. _

"_Hai," she replied, bringing a hand up to squeeze the one resting on her shoulder. "Because I'm doing the same thing."_

The next day, Shunsui had glimpsed Ise Nanao for the first time…

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A/N: Don't forget to review, or I won't give you chapter two! 


	2. The Plot Thickens in a Thicket

A/N: Here's another chapter in a belated Valentine's offering to my beloved readers. It may not be as good as chocolate, but hopefully you'll find it delectable just the same.

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**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter Two: The Plot Thickens in a Thicket**

"Come on Kyōraku-san and tell Ran-san what's wrong," Matsumoto wheedled, bumping Shunsui's shoulder lightly with her own.

"Nanao reads too much, that's the problem," Shunsui commented, adjusting his seat in the grass and going to lean his head against the large boulder their possessions were still currently resting on. He hissed as the movement agitated the shallow gash where his left shoulder met his neck.

"Yare Rangiku, you really did a number on me," he said wryly, gently probing the recent injury with his fingers.

"You should talk," she returned, attempting to rip one of the sleeves off of her uniform while cradling her own bleeding forearm. "Here, rip this for me," she requested, holding out her arm.

"How was I supposed to know you were going to come flying over me like that and upside down no less?" Shunsui asked indignantly, dispatching her sleeve and handing it to her.

Matsumoto shrugged. "I was trying something new. That evasive roll you did was pretty impressive. Take the other one, I can't stand being lopsided," she giggled, gesturing for Shunsui to use her other sleeve to stem the trickle of blood on his neck. "And stop avoiding the subject," she added over the sound of ripping fabric.

"I'm insulted you think I would do such a thing," Shunsui said, reaching up onto the boulder and retrieving the bottle of water. He took a swig before offering it silently to his friend.

"Well, you _are_," Matsumoto pointed out. "Saying Nanao reads too much is like saying Toshirō takes things too seriously." She gathered her hair in one hand and brought it to rest over one shoulder in a contemplative gesture.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with Nanao cutting you off earlier, would it?" she asked innocently.

"Yare," Shunsui sighed, "you don't miss a thing do you, Ran-san?" He sagged slightly against the warm stone, his skin soaking in the dying brilliance of the sun. There was a moment of silence during which Matsumoto gazed at him expectantly.

"Nanao won't touch my zanpakutō," Shunsui admitted finally.

"That didn't seem to be a problem in your office earlier," Matsumoto giggled.

Shunsui fixed her with a long-suffering look. "Rangiku, I'm being serious here. Nanao will absolutely not go near Katen Kyōkotsu."

"What does that have to do with her reading too much?" Matsumoto questioned, perplexed.

"Because, exactly two weeks ago, Nanao read in one of those ridiculously large tomes of hers that the temporary exchange of zanpakutō by a shinigami couple used to be a traditional part of the ancient wedding ceremony in the Seireitei," Shunsui explained with a an absolutely pained expression. "Apparently, the person was supposed to ask acceptance of their partner's blade and the zanpakutō gave some miraculous sign of approval," Shunsui elaborated at Matsumoto's look of confusion.

"So, Nanao won't go near your zanpakutō because she's afraid it's going to tell her that you're not supposed to be together?" she blinked.

"That would be correct," Shunsui returned, taking another gulp of water.

"And you've been doing everything you can in order to get her in contact with Katen Kyōkotsu in order to prove that you _are_ meant to be together," Matsumoto surmised.

"That would also be correct," Shunsui grimaced. "Yare Ran-san, you _really_ don't miss a thing."

"Of course I don't. I didn't get the reputation as the person who knows more about what's going on in the Gotei Thirteen than Soi Fong Taichō for nothing," she said coyly with a flip of her still inexplicably perfect hair. "Is that the only thing that's been going on between you?" she queried thoughtfully, taking the bottle of water out of his hands without really looking.

"Yes," Shunsui replied with a slight smile on his face. "Well, besides the usual quibbles about paperwork, me buying her too many presents, and being too affectionate in front of our subordinates," he said, bringing his hat down to keep the orange rays of the sunset from stinging his eyes.

Matsumoto made a noncommittal sound. "That's nothing new," she remarked finally, her brow furrowed slightly. She watched as Okuni evaded a particularly well-placed jab of Hyōrinmaru. She could tell, even from this distance, that her Taichō was holding back.

"You look troubled, Ran-san," Shunsui commented, observing the crease in the middle of his friend's flawless forehead.

"Oh, it's just that I was wondering exactly _what_ was supposed to happen when you held the other person's zanpakutō," she said. "I mean other shinigami pick up wounded soldier's zanpakutō all the time when returning from the battlefield."

"I assume that's a different circumstance," Shunsui mused, scratching his head. "A wounded shinigami's blade usually becomes dormant unless you try to separate it from its wielder. The connection between a zanpakutō and a soul usually causes the spirit of the zanpakutō to go into a state of rest as well," Shunsui explained the theory he had whittled out over the period of time since Nanao had first read to him her findings.

"You want Nanao to hold your zanpakutō," she broke of with a slight giggle at the possible innuendo causing Shunsui to smile, "even without knowing what is supposed to occur?" Matsumoto clarified.

"It's not for lack of trying," Shunsui said defensively. "I attempted to grab hold of the accursed thing to read exactly what it said but Nanao hid it somewhere after I threatened to use it for kidō practice because she was being so ridiculous."

He threw a quick look at Matsumoto who also had just noticed that Okuni, accompanied by their significant others, was hobbling towards them.

Okuni groaned as she crawled over the back of the boulder and collapsed on her back, her upside-down face hanging in between Matsumoto and Shunsui. Shunsui patted her head awkwardly in a consoling manner and she sent him a grateful smile.

"I think you're ready Takahashi," Hitsugaya proclaimed as he came to stand near Matsumoto, his arms crossed imperiously in front of his chest.

"That's if she's able to move at all tomorrow," Matsumoto quipped. "She may not be the only one in pain, though. Despite the fact that you tell me that your Taichō does nothing Nanao, he's incredibly fit. All those muscles rippling," she added with a suggestive wink in Nanao's direction. Nanao merely rolled her eyes and knelt demurely next to Shunsui.

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya said sharply, his eyes wide.

"What?" Matsumoto said with a slight pout. "You know I like watching _your_ muscles ripple the best, Toshi. Ripple, ripple, ripple," she said, reaching up and grasping hold of his hand in order to tug him down next to her. She grimaced as Hitsugaya landed clumsily, his wrist accidentally hitting her injured arm.

Hitsugaya noticed the expression on her face as he hastily righted himself, his eyes scanning her body automatically for signs of injury.

"Rangiku," Nanao asked, staring at her bare arms. "Is there a reason that your uniform is suddenly lacking sleeves?"

Matsumoto didn't get a chance to answer before Hitsugaya had seized her injured arm in his hand. "Rangiku, are you _bleeding_?" he demanded as he removed the wad of black fabric.

"_Kyōraku_," Hitsugaya growled, his narrowed turquoise eyes sliding over to rest menacingly on Shunsui. The other Taichō held up his hands in surrender, forgetting that his left hand was still holding the other arm of Rangiku's uniform. Nanao latched almost painfully onto Shunsui's wrist and turned the fabric over to reveal the glistening stain.

"See, Toshirō," Matsumoto said, tilting her head in Shunsui's direction, "it was a fair exchange."

Hitsugaya's eyes met Matsumoto's. Matsumoto's silver orbs were filled with pride at being able to land a hit on one of the most experienced captains in the Seireitei while Hitsugaya's shone with a captain's pride and a lover's admiration. Shunsui regarded the exchange with a smile.

Nanao moved slightly to perch in front of him, turning his head with her elegant hand in order to observe the damage. She grabbed the bottle and wet part of the fabric that was still clean before carefully cleaning the cut, her spare hand resting tenderly on the other side of his face.

Shunsui ignored the thread of the conversation, preferring to watch Nanao instead. He leant into the touch of her free hand and she blushed, her eyes hastily shifting over to the others. Shunsui brushed her bangs out of her eyes, rewarded when her violet-blue irises met his own.

"I don't think that it's deep enough to leave a scar," Nanao said, dropping her gaze when she noticed he had _that _look in his eyes. "Both of you should probably go to the Fourth Division to get them cleaned and disinfected."

"You could just kiss it and make it better, my caring Nanao-chan," Shunsui supplied hopefully.

Nanao responded swiftly with a light smack delivered by the hand he had been resting his cheek on. Hitsugaya snorted and Shunsui sent him a dirty look. Had they not both been adults, Shunsui wasn't quite sure that the younger Taichō wouldn't have stuck out his tongue in defiance.

"I'm supposed to meet Hanatarō," Okuni interjected. All four heads swiveled to where she was still laying with her head hanging upside-down, her hair making her look like she had some sort of distorted beard. "He can clean the cuts for you without you having to wait in line," Okuni clarified when the four older shinigami continued to look at her nonplussed. "It was Eleventh Division's turn to go up against the Sixth in the inter-division training devised by Yamamoto. Hanatarō says they've been preparing all week in advance."

"Are you sure they won't ruin your good time?" Nanao asked skeptically.

Matsumoto waved her hand in dismissal. "It's not like we'd stick around where we're not wanted. Right Kyōraku-san?" she said, almost offended.

"Don't worry about it, Nanao. Being seen with two of the most sought-after officers in the entire Gotei Thirteen won't cramp my style _too_ badly," Okuni said airily.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Nanao and Hitsugaya asked their respective partners in unison. Matsumoto and Shunsui laughed.

"It's alright Toshirō. I'm a big girl. I can handle getting a small boo-boo cleaned without you," Matsumoto assured Hitsugaya while Shunsui nodded in acquiescence. Matsumoto placed a quick kiss on her Taichō's cheek and made to stand. She strapped Haineko around her waist once more and walked around the rock to offer Okuni a hand. "Up you get!" she said cheerily, peeling the petite shinigami off of the boulder's face.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Nanao repeated so that only Shunsui could hear. "Okuni kept avoiding my gaze earlier in the office today. I think something might be bothering her." She gave Shunsui a look filled with concern for their friend.

He patted her head in a patronizing manner that brought a quick scowl to her face. "You're so adorable when you're worried, Nanao-chan," he grinned. "If something's bothering her, Ran-san and I will dig it out of her. Why don't you go home and get cleaned up?"

She nodded slowly, watching as Shunsui, Matsumoto and Okuni gathered their belongings and, with scattered gestures of farewell, made off towards the path that lead back towards the Seireitei.

Hitsugaya gave a small disbelieving snort as he came to stand next to Nanao. "Something's going on with Takahashi," he stated, watching as the trio's forms disappeared into the foliage. He strapped Hyōrinmaru around the white haori he had donned once-more.

"Hai," Nanao responded bluntly.

Hitsugaya shrugged as the two began to walk. "Whatever it is, we'll both know within the hour. She won't even last fifteen minutes with the two of them."

- - -

It turned out that it took under fifteen minutes and quite a bit less cajoling than expected to discover what was bothering Okuni. As soon as they had trekked a fair distance into the forest, Okuni's laughter at Matsumoto's rather bawdy joke faded rather abruptly.

"Kyōraku Taichō," she said seriously, "I have to talk to you about something."

Shunsui regarded the girl, his own expression serious. "You know you can tell me anything, Okuni-san," he assured her gently.

"It's about Nanao, sir," she said, her eyes shifting toward the ground.

"What about Nanao?" Shunsui asked, a sudden protective edge to his voice.

"I have reason to believe that she might be in danger," Okuni said, her eyes darting behind them as if the subject of their conversation was hot on their heels. "It's only just a hint but I wasn't sure if I should tell her directly or not. Anyway, I wanted to make sure that you were aware of it."

"Just spit it out already," Matsumoto said exasperatedly. She never had been able to stand suspense.

"The boys and I," she said, referring to the other members of the Eighth Division band she sang lead vocals for, "went to a tea house in the sixth district of Rukongai to try out some new material last night. There were a few of the new squad members there with a couple guys from Third and Fifth. They were all sitting around Tanaka Botan, that guy who almost fried my face off in kidō practice the other day," Okuni said, pulling a face at the memory.

"Is that the one who talked back to Nanao-chan and subsequently got charged with cleaning up the mess hall after every meal this week all by himself?" Shunsui said, scratching the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. He already did not like where this was going.

"The one and only," Okuni said shaking her head. "I was heading into the back to get a drink and I passed by their table. Tanaka was going on about tomorrow's placement competitions and how he planned to move up the ranks in record time. Then he said something about 'I'm going to put that Fukutaichō bitch in her place where she belongs… on her knees.'"

"Did he say anything else?" Shunsui demanded. His eyes were hidden beneath the brim of his hat but his tone was dangerously low.

Okuni bit her lip. "He _might_ have mentioned that she only got to be a fukutaichō because she spent so much time on her knees… in front of _you_," Okuni said in a rush, as if afraid her Taichō might decide to take his anger out on her.

Matsumoto placed a hand on Shunsui's shoulder. "Calm down, Kyōraku-san. You don't want to do anything rash," she said placidly before turning to Okuni. "Do you know where he lives?"

"Why?" Okuni asked suspiciously.

"So I can use him for bankai practice, of course," Matsumoto said with a sickly sweet smile. "No one insults Nanao like that and gets away with it."

"What happened to not doing anything rash?" Okuni said pointedly.

Shunsui took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter. While his words are unacceptable they were just that, words. Since they were not delivered directly to Nanao, he can't be charged with disrespect of a superior officer. He's not even ranked yet, so it's highly unlikely that he could even get himself in a position to challenge Nanao. He'd have to best half of the squad in order to do so."

Okuni didn't know if she had ever seen her Taichō look so serious in her six year stint in the Eighth Division, except when Nanao had been transferred to the Thirteenth for a brief period of time. She was also currently debating if it was absolutely necessary for her captain to know her next piece of news.

Matsumoto surveyed the petite shinigami with a critical eye. "Okuni hasn't told us everything yet, Kyōraku-san."

"Well, _actually_, I happened to look in that large book of laws that Nanao keeps around the office just of out curiosity," Okuni admitted. "It says that an unranked officer can challenge for any position so long as the officer being challenged and the division's Taichō acknowledge the challenge as valid. The winner of the challenge must be undisputed and have followed the rules set by the division's Taichō. However," Okuni continued, reciting the conditions with an air that suggested she had looked at the book more than once, "while fukutaichō's are usually appointed by the Soutaichō, _any_ contender can become a fukutaichō if the fight occurs in front of at least fifty people who have been a member of the Gotei Thirteen for over ten years, the Taichō of the division in question and one or more Taichōs of another division."

Shunsui swore violently as Okuni finished her monologue. "Are you telling me that Nanao-chan― _my_ Nanao-chan― could lose her position due to some…_punk_?" His hand drifted toward the hilt of his zanpakutō. "Where did you say this upstart lives again, Okuni-san?"

Okuni rolled her eyes and smiled grimly as they emerged onto the main road which cut through the heart of the Seireitei. "I didn't want to make a big scene," she protested. "I just wanted to warn you that Tanaka had it out for Nanao, so you could, I don't know…trade him to another Division or something," she said gesturing vaguely.

"That doesn't do anything to help us with tomorrow," Shunsui said, tucking his hands inside his sleeves pensively.

"I already have the boys on the lookout. In case Tanaka _does_ challenge Nanao, they're keeping an eye out for foul play," Okuni informed him. "I think it's highly unlikely Nanao _could_ loose to him even if he did resort to dirty tactics."

"And, if all else fails, she could roast him by taking off her glasses," Matsumoto chipped in cheerily. Shunsui and Okuni made sounds of assent, their spirits lifted by this pronouncement. Though Tanaka might end up as nothing more than hollow bait, at least Nanao would be safe.

"Thank you for looking out for Nanao-chan," Shunsui said, smiling down at his diminutive fourth seat. She flashed him a grin.

"That's what friends do, Taichō," she said, flashing a grin at him and quickening her pace. "Come on, if you guys make me late to meet Hanatarō and he ends up getting pulled into Eleventh Division clean-up duty, it will be your job to get him out of it somehow."

Shunsui and Matsumoto shared a look. In tandem, both grabbed one of Okuni's arms. Laughing at her squealing protests, the two shunpo-ed to the Fourth Division with Okuni suspended between them.

- - -

Shunsui patted the bandage on his neck in a gesture of approval. "Hanatarō-kun does excellent work, doesn't he?" he commented to Matsumoto as they set off in the direction of their divisions accompanied by the night's first chorus of crickets.

"It doesn't even sting anymore," Matsumoto agreed, flexing her forearm. She glanced over to where Shunsui was strolling next to her, his eyes straining in the early evening darkness towards the Eighth. She would have bet all of the purchases she had made during last week's shopping trip that he was searching for Nanao's reiatsu.

"Go on and go home to Nanao already before you get so worked up that even sake can't calm you down," she said with a flick of her hair. "I'm surprised you could even hold still long enough for Hanatarō-kun to patch up your neck."

"Is it that obvious?" Shunsui laughed, pushing the brim of his hat up slightly.

"No offense, Kyoraku-san but you've never been subtle when it comes to Nanao," Matsumoto replied, patting his shoulder in a teasing manner.

"I suppose you're right, Ran-san," Shunsui replied, shaking his head at how one small woman could have such a large effect on his life, even after all his time as a self-declared bachelor. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Of course," Matsumoto scoffed, "like I wouldn't show up when my best friend's life is in danger. Besides, if nothing happens I'm guaranteed a sake party afterwards. Don't forget to save me a seat," she added.

Shunsui raised his hand in a gesture of acknowledgment before flash-stepping his way to the Eighth. He paid little heed to the scenery bleeding away before him. No matter how fast he moved, he could not quite shake the feeling that, despite his friends' words to the contrary, something was about to go horribly wrong.

* * *

A/N: Please leave a review for a dented ego…someone left me a bad review to Tossed Aside. (Blows her nose loudly). 

I am leaving this weekend for my first college audition and am spending the next four weekends on the road. I will try to update in this period but I need to concentrate on doing well and keeping myself healthy for the time being. Know that I will update when I can!

Also, I stole Matsumoto calling Hitsugaya from MatsuMama who is a brilliant author in her own right. I think it's adorable. Also, I don't like the idea of her calling him Shiro-chan because that's what Hinamori calls him.


	3. A Series of Low Blows

A/N: I had a long weekend this week, so I had time to finish this chapter for you my wonderful readers! I have one more audition this weekend and I leave for vacation the following Wednesday. While I will write as much as I can, please do not be discouraged if it takes a little while to get the next chapter out. I am working my hardest!

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter Three: A Series of Low Blows**

Shunsui secured the sash on his navy blue yukata with a swift, purposeful tug. He took a moment to bind his still damp hair back in its usual style before slinging his pink haori around his shoulders. Humming slightly, he slid open the shoji screen and exited onto the small balcony that led to the exterior entrance of his quarters above the Eighth Division office.

Breathing deeply, he smiled as the distinct aroma of sakura blossoms drifted lazily over his senses. Leaning his forearms against the railing, he gazed at the scene below him.

Nanao sat in the grass of the small courtyard behind the office. Two large candles flickering in jars sat at her side, providing a sufficient quantity of light for her to read the large book she had propped in her lap. The pale lavender silk of the open haori she wore over her own deep violet yukata shimmered in contrast to her freed ebony hair, which seemed like rippling water under the luster of the moon.

Shunsui breathed deeply as he languished in the image of Nanao's serene and quiet beauty. She was a goddess with an inability to accept her own power.

Nanao closed the book with a quiet thud, resting it almost reverently on the grass in front of her. "How long are you going to stand there?" she called out in her precise voice.

Chuckling lowly, he descended the stairs. "Can't I admire the beauty of my Nanao-chan illuminated by the glow of the moon?" Shunsui teased, coming to stand in front of her. The light playing off of her glasses hid her eyes from view.

"How is your neck?" she inquired, tilting her head to the side in an effort to see his throat better.

"Finely tended to," Shunsui responded cheerily, presenting one tanned palm to her. Nanao slid her slim, long-fingered hand into his proffered one, rising daintily to her feet. Shunsui raised an eyebrow as the movement revealed a generous portion of creamy leg. Nanao had had tied her garment to the side instead of the back, as was traditional.

"I like this new style, Nanao-chan," Shunsui commented, tugging suggestively at the fabric by her thighs. She blushed prettily and Shunsui commended himself on his ability to get her to do so even after they had been intimate for the past five years.

"It allows for freer movement," she stated matter-of-factly. "It's not like I was expecting to run into anyone sitting in the office courtyard at this time of night. I was just waiting for you to come home and get cleaned up."

"And what a lovely sight to come home to," Shunsui declared, cupping her cheek and placing a soft kiss on her upturned lips.

"Aren't you ever going to get tired of complimenting me?" Nanao sighed.

"I sincerely doubt it," Shunsui responded running a hand through her unbound hair. He gazed at her finely crafted features, the instinctive need to protect her that he had carried since the day he met her swelling to the surface.

"Shunsui, are you alright?" Nanao questioned carefully, her large eyes searching his for some kind of answer to his suddenly pensive behavior. He leant his forehead against hers, nodding his answer against the warmth of her skin.

"Walk with me a while, Nanao-chan," he requested, weaving their fingers together. Nanao frowned slightly as Shunsui began to cross the grass with his accustomed languid motion. Nanao had to jog slightly to catch up with his longer stride.

He pulled her closer as he slowed his pace so that they could walk leisurely side by side, their upper arms brushing against each other in an almost sensual whisper of silk― a lover's sigh in the gray light of the night.

"Are you going to tell me what Okuni said?" Nanao asked, leaning slightly on his arm as she looked up into his unusually guarded features. He smiled down at her, causing Nanao's lips to thin. It was the strained expression he always wore when he was attempting to keep something from her.

"Shunsui―" she began but a slight squeeze of her palm prevented her from continuing.

"Let a man work up to it, Nanao-chan," he said lightly as he led her into a small copse of trees near the back of the Eighth Division boundary. The slender white birches intermixed with the various blossoming trees made the small landscape blend like a watercolor painting in the interspersed splashes of moonlight.

Shunsui lifted Nanao out of a sudden desire to make her the center of nature's provided frame. He enjoyed her airy breath of surprise as her hands shot out to rest on his shoulders in an endeavor to steady herself. He placed her down gently on a low-hanging branch. The long sleeves of her haori had fallen to her wrists with the movement, completely surrounding him in flowing lavender and Nanao.

"Why do you like sitting me on things so much?" she asked with a dry curiosity. "This branch, my desk earlier…" she trailed off as Shunsui leant his head against an arm still resting on his shoulder.

"Well, I decided I like this branch because it allows me to look up at my Nanao-chan, and the desk because it allows me to kiss you without having to lean down so far," Shunsui admitted.

"I apologize for being too short for you liking," Nanao drawled with a hint of indignation.

"I never said that," Shunsui replied with a trademark pout. He pressed a delicate kiss to the inside of her palm. "You are my Nanao-chan, my perfect compliment in every way including height. Just tall enough that your head is easily tucked under my chin," he said, moving closer into her.

She rolled her eyes and his ridiculously overly romantic sentiment. He grabbed her face in his large hand and held it so that she could not avoid his eyes.

"I love you, Nanao."

She froze for a mere instant before her gaze melted and something akin to apology crept into it. Her lips parted but no words came out.

Shunsui had not truly expected any different. In the five years that he had been with Nanao, she had never uttered the phrase, "I love you," with his name in the sentence. While he wasn't going to say it did not bother him at all, the sting was lessened because he knew that it wasn't that Nanao did not _want_ to say it, just that she was terrified to do so. She would say it eventually, when she felt secure that he truly was not going to rethink what had not been a hasty decision at all on his part to enter into a relationship with her. Shunsui wasn't exactly sure how long that would take, but for now he would settle for the knowledge that Nanao was his for the moment and the promise she had given him that she would stay that way.

Nanao gently nodded her acknowledgement of his declaration against the hand that cupped her cheek. She lifted her head when he allowed his hand to slide over her curves, resting at her waist. She shifted slightly in what Shunsui knew was pent up frustration at her own inability to express her feelings, her hands pulling his haori further over his shoulders as she had dislodged it slightly when he had picked her up suddenly.

"Have you worked up to telling me what's going on, yet?" she asked quietly after a short silence. Shunsui blinked, not realizing that he had been staring intently at her face for the last few minutes.

"Yare, Nanao-chan," he sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I know it's nothing that I should be concerned about―" he started.

"But you are," Nanao pointed out. "I don't really understand why, though."

"I haven't even told you what I'm worried about," Shunsui said, getting the distinct feeling he was going to be on the receiving end of Nanao's inherent intelligence very shortly.

"I've been thinking about it ever since you left earlier," Nanao said. "I couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary that would make Okuni worry so much. Then I remembered that encounter with Tanaka Botan earlier in the week. I wondered if she had overheard him boasting of dimwitted plots of revenge against me," she explained. She took Shunsui's silence as a confirmation and continued.

"There's not that much he can do to me in terms of physical harm. During morning training I'm always with other division members, during the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon I'm in the office with you. I haven't slept in my own quarters for over four years now." She frowned. "It's not as if the fact we live together is classified information." _Not for lack of trying,_ Nanao thought wryly.

"There's also nothing we can do about him trying to do something either," Nanao said, tucking her hair behind her ear in a gesture of displeasure. "Hopefully, we'll be able to have him transferred to a division like the Eleventh where he belongs. In the meantime, if he does try something, it's nothing I'm not able to handle," she stated firmly.

Shunsui turned her palms over in his own, running his fingers along the lines etched into the smooth skin. Those elegant hands, whose only callous was on the third finger of her right hand from where she held her pen, had produced some of the most furious kidō he had ever seen. However, if Botan used underhanded tricks, he worried that even Nanao's considerable fury would not be enough to protect her.

"You don't seem relieved," Nanao commented, arching a perfect eyebrow.

"I'm not," Shunsui admitted with a shrug. "While your powers of deduction are astounding as ever, my brilliant Nanao-chan," he said with a small smile, brushing his lips across her knuckles, "you left out the events of tomorrow."

Nanao's brow furrowed. "The competition? Botan's not even a seated officer, how could he possibly fight his way through the entire division in order to even have the slightest possibility of challenging me?" her voice rose in confusion.

"Because he doesn't have to," Shunsui said darkly, his grip tightening on her hands. He related to her everything their fourth seat had told him that afternoon, including the convenient bylaw she had researched.

As he reached the end of his explanation, Nanao removed her hands from her lover's and folded them neatly in her lap, her eyes fixed on them. Shunsui could feel the tension flooding off of her body as waves of reiatsu pulsed around her like an enraged heartbeat.

"You're angry, Nanao-chan," he declared the obvious.

"Of course I am," she shot back coldly, causing Shunsui to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"May I ask why?" he returned evenly. He removed his hands from her and tucked them into the safety of his sleeves.

"Because you don't trust me!" she said, her fingers curling into the fabric of her yukata.

"I am…perplexed as to what a matter of your safety has to do with my trust in you," Shunsui said, the words tinged with surprise.

"You still don't trust me to defend myself after all this time," Nanao gritted out. "I did not become your fukutaichō merely because I am adept at paperwork. I thought I had proven that to you on more than one occasion." She planted a foot on the branch beneath her, ready to use it as leverage to jump from the perch he had placed her on.

Shunsui prevented her from moving any further by griping the branch on either side of her, blocking her means of escape. "I've been your Taichō for over a century Nanao-chan, I'm fully aware of your capabilities," he said, a rare hint of anger leaking into his usually placid tone.

"Then why don't you act like it," she snapped back, her glasses flashing. "Just because I warm your bed at night does not mean that my over two hundred years of experience suddenly vanished. If that is indeed what you believe having a relationship translates into, I suppose I'll be filing for transfer in the morning," Nanao snapped.

"That was a low blow Nanao," he said, disappointment evident in his tone. "The fact that you _can_ fight, does not mean that I enjoy _letting_ you fight, anymore than you like watching me do it," he said patiently. "And _yes_, I quite like having you in bed with me and I am also inclined to make sure that you remain in good enough health to be there." He felt some of the anger drain out of her as her reiatsu settled slightly and trailed his lips up the flesh of her previously barred knee.

"_If_ he challenges me," Nanao said slowly, as if waiting for his attention, "I want your permission to go against him. I don't like fighting anymore than you do," Nanao confessed when he opened his mouth to protest, "but it's the only way to put a swift end to this ridiculousness."

Shunsui studied her determined features for a moment before acquiescing reluctantly. "You'll have my consent, Nanao-chan." She placed a bracing hand on his chest when he moved to seal their agreements the way he always did, with a kiss.

"You can't do anything reckless either, even if he does cheat," she added. Shunsui chuckled.

"Says the woman who threw herself in front of a hollow in order to save me," he teased gently. "I promise I won't interfere as long as the match stays fair," Shunsui compromised. Knowing that was as far as he was going to budge, Nanao released the pressure of her hand, allowing him to mesh their mouths together in a kiss that was warmed by the waning flames of their argument.

An involuntary soft hum of pleasure sounded in her throat. Nothing could compare to this. Even when Shunsui could get her fired up so quickly, he also had the ability to swiftly turn that energy toward other more… alluring uses.

Shunsui tugged her off of the branch, his arm swinging up to catch under her knees before she'd barely fallen an inch.

"Shunsui, what are you doing?" Nanao asked, while he peppered kisses along the skin bared by her neckline. Part of her was afraid that he was going to lay her down on the grass and have his way with her where someone might hear them and come to investigate.

"I'm am taking you to the office," Shunsui grinned seductively. "We have some unfinished celebrating to attend to, Nanao-chan."

"What about dinner?" Nanao said, ever the practical one. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes," Shunsui laughed. "I seem to have worked up an insatiable appetite for you that can be delayed no longer, Nanao-chan." With that he brought her closer to his chest, flash-stepping the short distance to their office.

He was going to make sure that she was never able to look at her desk in the same way ever again.

- - -

Placement competitions always had an almost carnival-like atmosphere in the Eighth Division. This was not because the members did not take them seriously, but rather because the promise of a raucous party following the proceedings, regardless of the results, helped considerably to take the edge off of the day.

The tournament was held in the Eighth Division training grounds which consisted of a large open field. There was a worn out dirt oval in the middle where generations of shinigami had tested their skills under the proud eye of their captain, who always sat in the middle of the large observation platform which edged one half of the oval. The remainder of the division that could not fit onto the platform was spread over the grass on the sidelines of the arena. Those not competing were enjoying food they had brought down from the mess hall while lounging on colorful blankets. Others were enjoying a bottle of sake in the warm spring sunshine, like their Taicho was currently doing.

Shunsui applauded against the side of his bottle as they watched Okuni make a rather spectacular midair somersault to evade a rather hastily shot kidō spell from the division's current fifth seat. As their former third seat had been transferred to the fifth division earlier in the year, Okuni, currently ranked fourth, had only to beat the only other person vying for the third seat in order to attain it.

Beside him, seated on her own cushion, Nanao surveyed the match like a queen observing a fierce battle between gladiators for their survival. Shunsui grinned over the rim of his sake at the indigo scarf she had tied elegantly at her throat. The rhinestone design on it threw little rainbows over their surroundings.

The scarf, a gift from Okuni was currently covering a very visible love bite on the side of her neck. While the garment had raised more than a few eyebrows among the squad, Shunsui could not help but feel immense pride that he had finally forced Ise Nanao to break the uniform code.

"Stop acting a dog that finally managed to mark its territory," Ukitake chided from Shunsui's other side, following his gaze.

"Must you always try to take away from my fun, Jyū-chan?" Shunsui asked his best friend with an over exaggerated pout. But it wasn't all fun and games, Shunsui mused as both men turned their attention back to the match at hand. Though the members of Okuni's band had been on the lookout for any strange activity, and Tanaka had remained in his reclined position on the grass below since the tournament began, Shunsui still could not unwind the last strings of the knot of worry that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

Matsumoto, who was seated on Nanao's right, let out an excited whoop and gathered her spluttering Taichō into bone-crushing hug when Okuni bent into the fifth seat's oncoming charge, successfully flipping him over her shoulder. Okuni flash-stepped over just in time to sit on her opponent, preventing him from moving. The blade of her steel fan sparkled gleefully as it rested precariously near his Adam's apple.

Nanao waited for a moment before rising and calling the match in Okuni's favor. Shunsui clinked bottles with Ukitake and Matsumoto before raising them in salute toward Okuni who was making her way off of the field, clapping the new fourth seat on the back in congratulations. Nanao sat back down, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips when she saw Matsumoto placing a rather loud kiss on Hitsugaya's lips to reward him for preparing Okuni so well.

Shunsui rose to make his customary closing speech, which offered congratulations to the winners and extra sake to those who hadn't been so lucky this go around. "Let us hope that the sake tonight will be as fine as that last match!" he declared to the resounding approval of his squad members. Nanao rolled her eyes as Matsumoto's voice joined that of the crowd.

"Unless there are any of you who have not yet competed today that wish to issue a challenge I will close the competition so preparations for tonight's party can begin," Shunsui grimaced mentally as he was forced to give his members and obligatory last chance.

A whisper swept through the assembly as a solitary figure rose.

"I would like to issue a challenge, Kyōraku Taichō," Tanaka Botan's voice seemed amplified tenfold as all movement on the grounds ceased.

Shunsui did not force himself to keep his smile in place as he asked the next question. He already knew he was not going to like the answer. "And who, might I ask, are you challenging?"

"The precious Nanao-chan," he responded, making no attempt to hide the sneer that curled over his thin lips.

Outrage erupted over the division like a latent volcano as various squad members hissed protests like spitting lava. On the platform those flanking the Eighth Division heads tensed visibly.

Tanaka ran a hand through his roughly cut dark hair, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his uniform and unfolding it with a flourish. "You see, I am entitled to do so as stated by the rules that Ise Fukutaicho holds so dear." He read the contents of the paper to the division with a lazy satisfaction before holding the paper up in one hand, offering it to Shunsui on the platform. Instead, it was Nanao who yanked the paper out of his hand.

"Where did you get this?" Nanao asked, her tone deadly quiet. Her eyes surveyed the law neatly printed on the page which appeared to have been ripped out of a book.

"The law book in the division office," Tanaka said dismissively. The spectators fell silent once more as Nanao's face flushed a deep shade of crimson. Matsumoto's hand clamped restrainedly on her friend's upper arm.

Tanaka Botan had just broken two unspoken rules of the Eighth Division. _No one_ besides Kyōraku Taichō was allowed to call their Fukutaichō Nanao-_chan_. And _no one_ in the Eighth Division was allowed to harm any books under Ise Fukutaichō's watchful care. Ripping one of her most consulted tomes was likened to suicide.

"I accept," Nanao's voice rang like the clear tone of a bell over the spectators as she rose nimbly to her feet. "As we have two Taichōs present who are the heads of other divisions as stated by the law you just read to us, there will be no need to delay the match in order to fetch one."

"Excellent," Tanaka Botan said, flashing Nanao a cobra-like smile before practically swaggering out into the middle of the oval. Nanao turned to move toward the steps that led off of the observation deck but paused when Shunsui's hand gripped her forearm.

"You promised," she whispered, mindful of the heated whispering of gathered squad and the eyes watching warily for their Taichō's reaction.

Shunsui struggled to prevent himself from doing something drastic.

"Yare, Nanao, I know," he responded. "Don't do anything to make me come down there," he warned her. His fingers subtly brushed down the neckline of her uniform. He could feel the outline of her sheathed zanpakutō contrasted with the smoothness of her skin. "Use it if you have to." And he looked meaningful into her covered eyes. "Take them off if all else fails."

"Hai, Taichō," Nanao responded with a crisp nod.

Shunsui sat down slowly, feeling Matsumoto shift over and place a hand whose grip was just slightly too strong to be merely comforting on his wrist. On Matsumoto's other side, Hitsugaya's had shifted one knee to rest in a subtly placating manner on his own fukutaichō's knee the other raised toward Hyōrinmaru's hilt in a subconscious gesture of readiness.

It seemed as if the entire division held its breath while Nanao made her way across the field in her usual measured strides. Both opponents turned and bowed to Shunsui before bowing toward each other. Shunsui noticed with pride that Nanao barely inclined her neck to Tanaka's mocking bow, not presenting him with a chance to strike a vulnerable area if he attacked before the signal had been given.

It was as a captain that Shunsui gave the order for the fight to commence, his heart roaring with agony as the sickening sound of metal being drawn from its sheath echoed in his bones.

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A/N: Review or I'll just let you fall off the cliff I left you all hanging on… 

P.S. I have gotten several messages asking if I am adverse to people doing fanart for my stories. The answer is a resounding "OF COURSE NOT!" I LOVE fanart and there's too little Shunsui/Nanao love being depicted. I would be extremely honored if someone took the time to draw a scene from one of my humble works.


	4. Seeing Pink

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm sorry this took so long for such a short chapter. I have developed tendonitis in my right wrist which has made it difficult for me to type. I can't guarantee you when the next chapter will be out, but I will try my hardest to make it soon.

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**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter Four: Seeing Pink**

Steel glistened in the late-morning sunlight like a fire contained in ice. It matched the blaze that raged in the pale eyes of the person that wielded it as he surveyed the woman standing a few yards away.

Nanao automatically began to strategize as the length of the rather unusual zanpakutō was revealed from its thin sheath. She had remembered noting its unique appearance during drills upon Tanaka's arrival to the squad, but she had never taken pains to study it as she did now.

It was a saber, the blade tapering from the large guard over his hand to a fine and deadly point. Designed both for slashing and thrusting, it would be much easier for him to score a hit on her than the other way around if she was forced to draw her zanpakutō. Deciding it was wisest to keep as much distance as possible between them, Nanao did not wait to for him to make the first move.

She saw the smugness drain out of his ice-cold eyes as the ground at his feet exploded with the force of Nanao's first shouted spell. She did not retreat from him as he scrambled up from the ground, his face flush with embarrassment as jeering laughter sounded from the gathered audience. Tanaka's eyes narrowed at Nanao as if it was her own fault that he had challenged an officer well out if his capability to defeat.

He charged towards her again with an enraged bellow, his zanpakutō held back, ready to slash her. Nanao, having over a century of chasing after her Taichō under her belt, was much too quick. She flash-stepped underneath his outstretched arm. She waited a fraction of a second, just to see if he would notice that she was no longer there, before releasing a double-volley of blue flame at his sides.

On the platform, Matsumoto's grip on Shunsui's arm had loosened slightly so that it resembled more of a bracelet than a shackle. Shunsui on the other hand only grew more rigid as the fight continued for several minutes.

It _should_ have been over. Nanao should have already blasted Tanaka off of his feet, instead of dodging his every attack, her own furious strikes flying just short of their intended target.

"She's missing him on purpose," Hitsugaya said with a scowl of displeasure. "She could have taken him down by now."

Shunsui's frown deepened to match Hitsugaya's as he watched the younger shinigami take a few cautious steps to the right.

"She's drawing it out on purpose," he realized out loud. "Either to help save his reputation or teach him a lesson. How many times have I told you not to be so kind-hearted when fighting?" Shunsui demanded of the air.

"No," Ukitake corrected slowly, causing all three of his friend's heads to whip towards him. "Something is wrong. Ise-san's aiming but…" All three heads whipped back to the fight.

Tanaka Botan had managed to fight his way closer to Nanao. She threw out her right arm in an attempt to force some distance between them. "Hakudo number one, thrust!" she bellowed. The hair on Tanaka Botan's left side was ruffled slightly as the powerful gust pushed his shoulder back but did nothing to deter him from advancing.

Shunsui swore under his breath as the realization almost knocked the wind out of him. Nanao was not missing _on purpose_; she was just inexplicably _missing_…

As if Nanao herself had just suffered the same horrid epiphany, her reiatsu flared noticeably. It lit around her like a blue-gold explosion, only to fade as quickly as it had come.

Nanao had never been one to panic, but never in her entire time as an officer of the Gotei Thirteen, had she ever felt anything akin to this. The reiatsu which always produced such masterful and carefully controlled kidō was waning. And it was waning _fast_.

She could already feel the trademark sensation of icy tingles creeping up her limbs, which usually heralded the fact that she had used too much reiatsu too quickly in battle. But the fight had barely begun and her opponent was getting close. Much too close…_unless_…

"Something wrong?" Tanaka Botan asked mockingly. "Your aim seems to be off today, _Nanao-chan."_

"You sound like you know why," Nanao accused, not really believing her words, just desperately trying to distract him as he neared.

"Not at all," he returned with a sadistic smile. "I'm guess I'm just lucky. And in a way, I guess it's lucky for the squad, too. They get to witness the reason a kidō-dependent bitch like you never should have made the rank of fukutaichō." He held his saber firmly in front of him. "_Bleed, Kanzanetami."_

Nanao held firm against the onslaught of reiatsu that occurred as Tanaka initiated his shikai. She was completely unphased by the change in his power level. She had been in danger from much more intimidating foes. She had to stick to her plan, it was the only thing she had right now. Nanao took one purposeful step backwards as he advanced slowly like a tiger circling its prey.

She released a quick spurt of blue fire which Tanaka sidestepped easily. Nanao hardly noticed, nor did she care. She could feel the heat leave her body with every attack she made. She would have to hurry things up. If she could just get _one_ good shot off, even in her weakened state…

He feinted, she dodged. The tip of his blade twitched toward the left, a beginners' habit, which indicated the direction he planned to strike next. Nanao threw her left arm into the path of weapon on purpose. She grit her teeth as she felt its sharp tip rake her upper arm. The warm flow of blood over her cold skin was an almost welcome sensation.

The move had its desired effect. Nanao hid her own satisfaction as she watched the same emotion stretch her opponent's patronizing grin to the breaking point.

"How disappointing," Nanao said crisply, arching an eyebrow for effect as he came closer. "Is that all your zanpakutō does? It's almost as dull as a practice katana."

To her surprise, Tanaka laughed as if he were truly amused. "Yes, Nanao-chan," he said mordantly as he continued to move towards her, slowly. "_All_ my _Kanzenetami_ does is force a wound to remain open. Each wound you receive from me will simply keep bleeding until I either deactivate my shikai or you die from blood loss."

From somewhere up above, Nanao could hear an almost feral snarl as Shunsui struggled against Hitsugaya and Ukitake as they attempted to restrain him from interfering. Nanao bit her lip to hold back a smile; she had not known she was so close to her intended destination. She sent out a feeble blast of kidō. He was so close…

"Now _this_ is disappointing," Tanaka drawled. "I don't even think I have to wound you again. Your reiatsu is already fading," he sighed morosely as he took a final step forward, effectively backing Nanao into the wall of the arena which ran the length of the observation platform. Tanaka shook his head, his dark hair hiding his eyes. "And nobody believed me when I told them you were easy. Concede," he demanded, placing a hand on her face.

"I won't hand our division over to an arrogant child like you," Nanao returned obstinately over the string of tortuous activities Shunsui was swearing to put Tanaka through for touching her. One thing was certain; defeat would be the least of his concerns once Shunsui got a hold of him.

Tanaka's fist collided with Nanao's face faster than she would have thought possible, the metal guard of the blade sending her skull ringing. "You're making me angry, Nanao-chan," he hissed.

Nanao brought the hand of her injured arm up to grasp the already swelling flesh. She was surprised to find that her arm was trembling with the motion, her muscles strained from the wound and the perpetual loss of blood. She blinked through the haze of pain. Shunsui's outraged cry seemed to echo through her. She refused to seem weak in front of her division. She _refused_ to have her captain come and rescue her. And she would rather _die_ than hand over her badge to this bastard.

"I've been angry for a while now," she returned, her voice shaking with suppressed rage. Her hand flew out so fast that the motion was blurred. Her fingers pressing themselves into his gut a split second before she cried, "Shot of red flame!"

The last remnants of her kidō slammed into his ribs with a sickening crunch, sending Tanaka sailing clean to the middle of the arena in a rush of wind that left in its wake the nauseating odor of charred flesh. He landed there with a dull thud, dust flying around him.

Nanao pushed off of the wall with shaking legs. She was thankful that the overwhelming numbness that had settled into her freezing body helped dull the ache of her bleeding arm. The world was spinning a little with each step she took. She was not sure if it was from the wound or her disoriented vision due to her swollen eye. She walked as purposefully as she could toward the center of the arena. She had to take the winner's obligatory bow, after which she would be declared the winner of the challenge.

Nanao tried to smile as she slowly turned to face the observation platform. Her eyes sought out Shunsui automatically. His features were pale and drawn with the strain of his struggle to remain seated during the fight. His expression perfectly reflected the relief she felt cascading through her. She had _won_, no matter how close the fight might have been.

Ignoring the way her face protested as blood rushed to her already swollen cheek, Nanao bowed to her division. She rose again, surprised to find that the look on her lover's face had turned to an expression of horror.

Had it not been for the slight pain, Nanao would not have been able to feel the difference between her flesh and the steel of the blade pressed to her throat.

"Did you think that you could win so easily?" Tanaka Botan rasped in her ear. "It's not over yet, Nanao-chan."

Nanao's hand was inside her uniform before her injured opponent had time to move. Her tantō sparkled as it knocked his sword away from her throat, sinking into the hand that attempted to grab her as if it were butter. "Yes, I think it _is_ over," she said coldly. "And _don't_ call me Nanao-chan."

With a howl of pure ire, Tanaka lunged at her wildly.

His sword tore at her hip as Nanao's buried itself in his heart.

She staggered as his weight dragged her down, blood spraying up to fleck her face. She could not force her stiff fingers to release the hilt of her zanpakutō even as her own uniform was soaked with his blood. The scent of charred flesh made her head spin. She wanted to wretch but could not force her jaw to open. She could hear the pandemonium taking place around them as the squad members screamed that he had been killed, that _she_ had been killed.

_Am I dying?_ Nanao wondered almost absently. She had been wounded badly before and had almost died. Shunsui had healed her…she smiled at the memory.

Yes, this felt more than vaguely familiar, she realized. Except this time there was no scent of incense and sake, the familiar feel of silk as he cradled her blood-soaked form.

There it was. How clear the senses become at the end, she marveled. She could feel his reiatsu surrounding her, warming her like the late afternoon sun. She would miss this warmth…his warmth. She would miss him.

And she had never told him that she loved him. At that moment, it seemed like the most important thing to devote her last breaths to.

"Shunsui…" she breathed raggedly. "I―"

She could not seem to find the air to finish. Somehow though, it seemed fitting to Nanao, as the colors of the world began to blur like a pastel drawing left out in the rain, that that last thing she saw was the vivid pink of his ridiculously flamboyant haori.

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A/N: It is a little know fact that reviews help cure tendonitis of the wrist. Wanna help me through the pain?

Just for those of you who want to know, Tanaka's zanpakuto was named Perfect Jealousy. Or at least it was supposed to. Conterra looked it up on an online romanjii dictionary and named it herself. I thought it sounded kinda cool.


	5. Standard Procedure

A/N: Hello again everybody. Well, I have endured another painful chapter (literally) in order to not upset my beloved readers and fellow Nanao/Shunsui fans. I will try to update as soon as possible. Enjoy!

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**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter Five: Standard Procedure**

She could hear snoring. Familiar snoring.

It was the same gentle rumble that usually filled her afternoons in the office and lulled her to sleep each night.

She was warm. It occurred to her that she had no right to be this warm, seeing as she was dead.

_Is this what happens to a soul after they die?_ Nanao wondered sleepily. Did you merely drift, warm and contented by familiar calming noises while waiting to be reincarnated, if that's what was supposed to happen?

She breathed deeply, reluctant to open her eyes and view her surroundings. She knew the pain would come when she opened them to discover that he wasn't there beside her; that the snores were a byproduct of this place, wherever it was, and not of the man she had left behind. Instead, she turned onto her side in attempt to get comfortable once again and fall back into the aimless slumber.

She was surprised to find that physical pain accompanied the motion, bringing a stark sense of clarity to the rest of her limbs. She was weighed down by something soft, her arm was smarting beneath her, and her throat seemed to sting every time she inhaled or exhaled. Realization seemed to sink in as she blinked open her eyes in hesitant shock.

The first thing she saw was that there were eyes staring _back_ at her. Eyes that were as familiar to her as the snores had been because they were set in his face, which was currently tilted upward to look at her from beneath the brim of his hat.

"Shunsui?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

"Nanao-chan," he returned, his voice low in the semidarkness of the curtained space. Nanao assumed that she must be in the Fourth.

Shunsui scrambled up from his position lying on the on the floor and rushed to her side. His large hands fell automatically to stroking her hair back from her face.

"H-how?" she stammered, her generally quick mind unable to comprehend that she had survived. Usually, people did not receive two terrible wounds in their lifetimes and live to see the scars.

Shunsui chuckled as he sat down on the bed at her side, barely able to stand as the tension caused by worry seeped completely out of him. "You sound as if you think I would let you die so easily," he responded, his voice catching slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, almost frightened by the fear that had not completely vanished from his eyes.

"Yare, Nanao-chan," he sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, "you really _are_ adept at scaring the shit out of me at times."

Nanao withdrew her hand from under the large stack of thick blankets that was piled on top of her. She reached up with the fingers of her good arm to trace the line of his jaw. She wasn't sure who the action reassured more.

His hand came up to cover her and she sighed as she felt the heat of it. "Your hands are like ice," he frowned. "How are you feeling?"

"Cold," she replied honestly. "Other than that, I'm surprised that I'm not in more pain."

"Unohana-san said that wounds were not too bad, considering. It was mainly the stress combined with the sudden loss of blood that caused you to pass out." He shook his head. "She said the cut on your throat was a little deeper than she would have thought, but nothing serious." His silence rang with the implication of what could have occurred if it _had_ been serious.

"Thank you," Nanao said fiercely. "For allowing me to finish my own battle and for saving me…_again_."

His thumb outlined her lips, the curve of her cheek. "I almost didn't let you finish," he admitted. "I have never been through anything so unbearable in my entire life, Nanao-chan. And it's been _long_." He gazed at her for a minute, something unreadable in his eyes. "However, you ought to thank Hanatarō for being besotted by our Okuni. If he hadn't come by to see how she had faired…He was the one to stop the bleeding. It's a good thing that bastard's shikai had been deactivated…" He began kissing each one of her fingers distractedly as if his thoughts had taken a sudden unpleasant turn.

Nanao's definitely had. "Shunsui, what happened?" she asked reticently.

"You won," he replied, his eyes avoiding hers for the briefest of seconds. When they met hers once more, his chocolate-colored eyes were almost staggering with the weight of the affection contained within them.

"Shunsui―" Nanao began but Shunsui cut her off gently.

"Shhh, my lovely Nanao-chan," he said. "You should get some more sleep, you've only been here for a few hours and it's the middle of the night."

She nodded slightly, as she could feel sleep tugging at the corners of her consciousness already. He smiled at her unusually docile response before lowering his head and pressing his lips to hers gently.

She did not know who it surprised more when she reached up and deepened the kiss, her hand tangling in the remnants of his disheveled ponytail. She sunk into the warmth as his reiatsu seemed to curl around her like a shield, blocking out the sleeping world that existed beyond the two of them.

Shunsui drew away slowly, his nose skimming along her cheekbone as he moved to place a gentle kiss next to her ear. "I love you, Nanao," he murmured.

She nodded against the warmth of his skin, her rebellious throat still refusing to allow the words out. "Stay," she rasped out instead.

"Of course, Nanao-chan," he said. Nanao reached across with her good arm, lifting the blankets in order to communicate that she didn't just want him in the general vicinity but safely tucked at her side. He chuckled again as he tossed his haori and hat onto the chair on the other side of the bed before sliding in next to her.

- - -

When Nanao woke, what seemed like minutes later, it was due to the shifting of the form beneath her. Blinking blearily, she squinted at the guilty expression on her lover's face.

"What is it?" she asked, lifting one of the hands that she had curled subconsciously around his during the night in order to push her hair roughly out of her eyes.

"It's almost morning, Nanao-chan. I have to go to the office," Shunsui said apologetically.

Frowning, Nanao laid her head back on his chest, twining her hands with his once more. "Since when do you get out of bed to go to work?" she asked wryly.

He chuckled, stroking her mussed locks. "Since the work at hand concerns the well being of my division, my Nanao-chan especially."

Nanao's muscles tightened at his words and Shunsui stiffened below her, fearing her reactions to the suggestion behind the statement. He was not quite sure if Nanao _knew_…if the _possibility_ had even crossed her mind that she had…

"Oh," she said lamely, "the incident reports." Shunsui breathed a sigh of relief that rumbled through Nanao's body. She was taking this _much_ better than he had expected her to.

"Are you… alright, Nanao?" he asked, concerned that she was trying to act strong like she always did.

"I'm fine," she replied quietly. "That's just standard procedure."

Shunsui blinked in the dim light of the predawn filtering through the white curtains. While he hadn't expected her to fall to pieces, he had never imagined her to be so far removed from the act as to call it 'standard procedure.' It only made him worry about how Nanao really was coping with the ordeal.

Still, he had been a captain long enough to know that these things were best dealt with as quickly as possible. While he didn't exactly relish spending his morning filling out such a grim report, he was worried to the point of physical agitation of what might happen to Nanao if he let the matter wait any longer.

Shunsui kissed the top of Nanao's head gently and sat up, twisting her easily in his arms as he did, so that she was lying on the small bed once more.

"You're really going?" Nanao asked incredulously. It was incredibly out of character for her constantly sleeping Shunsui to even roll over before this time in the morning, let alone get out of bed.

He chuckled darkly. "Don't sound so surprised, Nanao-chan," he chastised. "You should know by now that I'm even willing to get up early when it comes to you."

He brushed a hand across her bruised cheek. His earthen gaze was almost metallic as it regarded the vivid splotches of black and violet which danced across her skin. For a moment, Nanao though he was angry with _her_ before she realized his ire was directed toward the man who had given her the mark.

Nanao acutely felt the lack of warmth as Shunsui withdrew his hand, the ease she always felt basking in his reiatsu turning quickly to distress as she realized that her own reiatsu level had not recovered. In fact, she felt drained, as if her reiatsu was now nonexistent, taking her precious kidō along with it. With a jarring pang of clarity, Nanao knew she did not want to be alone right now.

"_Don't_," she whispered as he turned to go, the helplessness welling within her.

Startled by the almost inaudible request, Shunsui turned on his heel to consider her once more. Her uncovered eyes were wide and frightened in a way he had never seen before.

"Nanao," he exhaled, bending over her impossibly hopeful eyes, "the faster we fill out the paperwork, the sooner your name is officially cleared." He bent to kiss her swiftly, his mouth moving against her persuasively. He pressed his lips tenderly to the lid of her blackened eye, grinning slightly to himself at the reversal of their usual roles. "I will let nothing take you from my side, Nanao, unless you choose to move from it yourself."

He smiled softly when she leaned up and meshed their lips together once more, a brief, yet sweet reminder of her promise that he would have to leave her first. She would never be the first to walk out. In Shunsui's opinion it was an excellent vow as it meant they would never be separated. He could no sooner leave his Nanao-chan than give up sake.

"I'll be back as soon as I finish, if you're not released first," he told her warmly, retrieving his hat and haori from the bedside chair. "Hanatarō should be by to check on you soon, he had the nightshift. Okuni-san might be with him, she stayed to keep him company." Shunsui winked suggestively at this piece of news. Nanao rolled her eyes as he swept out of the curtained cubicle in a flutter of pink.

Grimacing at the wave of emptiness she felt at his departure, Nanao pulled the stack of blankets up to her chin and tried to ignore the one question that was relentlessly plaguing her.

- - -

Nanao ignored the twinge in her hip as she walked as swiftly as possible toward the Eighth Division office. She wished that the blazing spring sun could be warm enough to remove the perpetual chill from her bones.

Unohana Taicho had frowned slightly at her examination of Nanao's reiatsu level. She had then turned her serene smile on Nanao, probably due to the undiluted panic in the young fukutaichō's eyes. The healer had told Nanao that her reiatsu should return to normal in a day or so, theorizing that it was merely her body's reaction to exhaustion from the blood loss. It was using her reiatsu to provide the energy it needed to recover.

Nanao was under orders not to work for the rest of the week. Nanao figured that meant she could only complete half of her usual paperwork load.

She paused outside of the office door to reassure a new recruit that she was, in fact, feeling fine. Nanao watched the young man walk away with an awed expression. It reminded her of the way the young shinigami always gawked at Kurosaki Ichigo whenever he paid one of his frequent unannounced visits.

Shaking her head in confusion, she moved to turn the knob but hesitated, just noticing the sound of raised voices from inside. Surprised, Nanao recognized Matsumoto's distinctive voice tinged with a rare hint of frustration.

"I can't believe you haven't told her yet!" Matsumoto protested. "What's going to happen if one of the squad members just slips it into a conversation? People have started talking about her like she's Zaraki or something. It's ridiculous!" she huffed. A thudding sound indicated that she had plopped something onto Shunsui's desk.

"I quite agree with you Ran-san," Shunsui sighed. "However, it sounded as if Nanao was fully aware of what happened to…_him_," Shunsui finished in a strangled voice. "Nanao is nothing if not intelligent. I don't know how she could _not_ have realized…she stabbed him in the heart…" Shunsui trailed off as if the memory pained him.

Outside the door, Nanao froze. She did not want to think about what they were saying. The question that had pounded against her skull in time to her pulse all morning, echoing ceaselessly in her brain had just been answered and Nanao simply couldn't comprehend the answer. _Had she…?_ Oh gods…

"It was self defense," Matsumoto agreed bleakly. "But from the way other people are talking, Nanao ruthlessly ripped out his heart and _ate_ it over his dead body just because he dared to call her _Nanao-chan._"

"_Yare_," Shunsui said, there was a familiar clink which indicated he had taken a swig of the sake bottle Nanao was positive he had perched on his desk.

"You should go see her, Shunsui-san," Matsumoto encouraged gently. "You should make sure that she hears the news from _you_ instead of someone else. This is the sort of time that everyone likes a nice, strong pair of arms around them," she added in a poor attempt at her customary lighter tone.

Nanao backed quickly away from the door.

She didn't need anyone to tell her anything.

She had _killed_ someone. She had plunged her zanpakutō into the heat of another soul reaper…she had his blood on her hands…

_No_, Nanao disagreed with Matsumoto silently as she ran as fast and as far from the Eighth Division as she could. Nanao did not want _anyone's_ arms around her. She did not deserve comfort.

She had taken a life…and hers would never be the same.

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A/N: Review to make me feel more justified in putting off studying for a World Religions test in order to post this for you…Not that I wasn't having more fun…


	6. A Brace for the Pain

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A/N: Konichiwa reader-san! Here is a gift for you. I just got out of school officially today, but I still have to study my buttocks off for my IB tests which will take place throughout the month of May. I am also rehearsing for the dance show, so if there are less updates in May I apologize in advance. However, feel comforted knowing that we are getting to the really exciting part!

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**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter Six: A Brace for the Pain**

Nanao twisted her zanpakutō in her hand, watching the fire that seemed to dance inside of the metal in the bright light of the sun. She was completely oblivious to the beauty of her surroundings as she knelt next to the small river which snaked through the forest on the outskirts of Rukongai. Sighing, she allowed her gaze to crawl slowly toward the rushing water in front of her, which sparkled like a million fireflies when the rays of the steadily travelling sun caught its surface.

She had no idea how long she had been there, no concept of how long the horror had pervaded her veins, or the time it had taken self-loathing to replace it. And then, finally, for the fear to come.

She was a murderer.

Nanao buried her face in the cradle her knees provided. A small part of her wondered if she would ever be discovered with no reiatsu to trace. She assumed Shunsui was searching for her but she did not want to be found.

How could she face her squad knowing what she had done? This was not a mere hollow she had cut down with succinct efficiency, but a fellow shinigami. Surely, he had been brash, abrasive, and dangerous but Nanao had never thought that he deserved to _die_.

She flinched as she remembered the wild look in his eyes and the flash of instinct that had her tantō in her hand, the ferocious voice in her head that screamed at her to stop him _somehow_…. Worst of all, she remembered the sickening feel of her rarely used blade slicing his heart in two.

How had she not realized sooner what she had done? How had she even considered herself tough enough to handle this knowledge― that she had _killed_?

Her mind strayed to the time years ago when Kurosaki Ichigo and his companions had first entered the Seireitei. She had held her hand, blazing with kidō over his friend and offered to finish off the ryoka. She had wondered afterward why her Taichō had prevented her.

_Had he known?_ Nanao wondered. Could he see through her so clearly, as he had always been able to do, that he knew without a doubt what she would think, _feel_ later? At the time, had she only offered because, in her heart, she knew her peace-loving Taichō would stop her?

Nanao could no longer hold back the tears as she thought of her lover. How could he have held her so gently the night before, knowing full well that the ear listening contentedly to his heartbeat had just ended another person's? How could she continue to live such a warm and full existence when she had robbed another person of it?

A tear traced a silent path down her cheek, flush with the marks its brothers had left in their wake. Nanao glanced at the blade in her hand again. She had never felt anything but implicit trust and respect for her zanpakutō before this moment, and now the sensation of it in her hand made her feel uncomfortable and dangerous.

Nanao stiffened when she found herself engulfed in warmth as a pair of strong arms closed protectively around her.

"I've found you, my Nanao-chan," Shunsui breathed, relief evident in his voice.

Nanao struggled against his gentle hold. "Don't," she ordered quietly. "Please."

Shunsui merely pulled her tighter against him in response. "Don't what, Nanao?" he asked.

"Don't touch me," she returned, removing his arms from around her with a precise gesture. Shunsui sat back on his heels, his eyes wide in surprise as Nanao rose stiffly from her kneeling position to walk a few paces away.

"Why can't I hold you when you need me, Nanao-chan?" Shunsui said, his tone of voice pained as he studied her face. He stood, taking a cautious step designed to close the distance she had put between them.

"Don't come any closer," Nanao commanded coldly. "I might stab you through the heart too." Her voice broke slightly, and she inhaled sharply as her eyes fell back to the blade she held tentatively in her hand.

"Nanao," Shunsui said reproachfully, "you cannot blame yourself for Tanaka Botan's death. _He_ attacked _you_."

"But I wasn't the one who died, was I?" she whispered almost inaudibly.

"It was a natural response, Nanao," Shunsui said firmly, fighting the impulse to tuck her small frame into his and keep her there, comforting them both.

"If murder is my natural response, then it would have been better if his blade had sunk a little deeper," she laughed derisively.

"Never say that, Nanao," Shunsui pleaded, his voice suddenly hoarse as the image of a metal guarded fist ramming across the cheek he had traced so often…of Nanao on the ground…blood everywhere, swam in front of his eyes.

Nanao did not respond. Instead, she had resumed staring alternately at the weapon in her hands and then to the water rushing inches away from her feet. She twirled the handle in her hands deftly, evidence of the years of secret training she had put herself through.

The motion suddenly stilled. An unnamable emotion flashed across Nanao's face as she extended her arm out over the turbulent water, her zanpakutō clutched in trembling fingers…

Shunsui moved faster than he ever had in his life as he read the intent in her eyes. Nanao let out a surprised gasp as she found herself flat on her back in the grass, Shunsui's weight pressing down on her. His hands held her wrists tightly on either side of her head. She could feel their chests press together with every ragged breath she took.

"No, Nanao!" Shunsui said emphatically. "You might as well throw away _your_ heart."

Nanao turned her face away, ashamed to look at him. "Haven't I already done that?" she asked bitterly.

"No," Shunsui replied quietly. "The fact that you are in such pain now is proof of that."

Nanao closed her eyes tightly, words lost to her. All she could do was wish that she _had_ lost her heart because she was fairly positive that she could not continue to live with the guilt constantly clawing at her insides, refusing to let her emotions have one second of rest from the perpetual torture.

"Listen to me, Nanao," Shunsui said quietly, nudging her cheek with his nose, trying to get her to look at him. He sighed heavily when she refused but continued anyway. "Yes, you did kill a man, but it was not your fault. You did not challenge him; you obeyed the rules and fought well. It was _his_ choice to attack you after he had been knocked down, to hold a blade to your throat and threaten your life when you had rightfully won."

Nanao blanched, as his words hit a cord with the logical part of her brain which had temporarily been overridden with emotion. While she knew he was right, it did little to lessen the distress.

"And," Shunsui paused, trying to keep his tone soft and matter-of-fact, and not quite succeeding, "if you had not accidentally killed him in reaction to his attack, I can guarantee you that his end would not have been nearly as swift and much more deliberate."

He ran his thumb gently across the wrist which held her zanpakutō. "I would be grateful if you didn't callously throw away the friend who saved your life," he added gently.

Nanao tugged against Shunsui's grip feebly, shaking her head in denial without looking at him. "You wouldn't have killed him," she protested weakly.

Shunsui chuckled darkly. "I most certainly would have," he contradicted. "Had Jūshirō not held me back, Botan would have been dismembered before he could even think of releasing you." He laid his cheek on hers. "It would have been the second time I deliberately killed someone," he admitted quietly.

Nanao turned her head sharply, causing Shunsui to pull back to look into her eyes, wide behind her customary lenses. He laughed lightly again at the expression on her face.

"Yare, yare, Nanao-chan," he asked with a deceptively teasing tone, "Surely, you didn't think that you were the only one out of the two of us who had taken a life?"

Nanao blinked up at him. In all the years she had known him _never_ had he once mentioned anything that would have indicated such an event. Then again, hadn't she always wondered what would bring the sadness into his eyes on those rare occasions?

Nanao recalled the times, when they had been no more than coworkers sharing an odd friendship, that she would come onto the roof and find him staring into the bottle of sake he held in his hand without really seeing it? Nanao had always thought that his eyes held wisdom which transcended far beyond the experiences of other officers. She realized now just how much Shunsui had seen. Things that she was only beginning to comprehend.

"What happened?" she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. Shunsui sighed, rolling his weight to the side so he would not crush her. He released her hand, the one not holding her zanpakutō.

He did not look at her directly, his eyes focused on the necklace which hung from her throat. The glass pendant which contained the bright pink flower cut from the hem of his favorite haori was as brilliant as ever, had miraculously survived the fight unharmed. Shunsui briefly wished she could have said the same for Okuni's scarf. He began to toy with the charm distractedly as he spoke and Nanao suddenly realized that he was nervous.

"In the early days of the academy, things were much different that what you experienced, Nanao-chan. The Gotei-thirteen was not nearly as large and the officers who maintained it had received their training solely through experience. Competition was fierce in the first few years and Yama-jii was not very forgiving when it came to mistakes."

He smiled wryly. "Originally, graduates of the academy were not assigned to divisions based on their marks, their teacher's recommendations, and their interviews with the different squads. Instead, we fought each other for the privilege of placement."

"What do you mean?" Nanao asked quietly, her pain momentarily forgotten in the face of his recollection.

"It was very similar to the placement competitions squads hold today, except only the graduating class participated. Taichōs watched and then invited those students who intrigued them to join their divisions. We were kids, eager to show off…Things went wrong more often. When they did, no one stepped in.

"Jūshirō and I had to be careful. Through no fault of our own, we were well-known as Yama-jii's favorites. It occurred to more than one student that if one of them were to take out either one of us, it would be a very impressive feat. The last match I participated in, one took it too far."

He closed his eyes hard. "If he had only run onto _one_ of my blades, he might have survived…" Shunsui shook his head sadly. "I would like to say that was the only time I ever killed someone, but you know I can't lie to you, my lovely Nanao-chan."

"There was another?" Nanao asked hoarsely.

"My first fukutaichō, Hikari-san," Shunsui returned softly. "In the third month after my promotion to Taichō, I was ordered to take down a small, but particularly nasty band of hollows. I took my first seven officers…" He trailed off, his earthen eyes clouding over.

"She took a claw through the stomach to save the sixth seat. By the time I could get to her, we all knew that she wouldn't make it alive back to the Fourth. She looked up at me with her large green eyes and said 'Shunsui Taichō, you promised me two things. I know you won't let me down.'"

"What did you promise her?" Nanao asked, her free hand curling into the fabric of his haori.

"On her first day as my fukutaichō, she asked me with a smile over lunch to…end her life if she asked me to. It wasn't until the fifth time we went out drinking that she made me promise to kiss her before she died. It was as if she always knew she wouldn't last long."

Their eyes met. Though Nanao had never met this woman, she probably should have felt some jealousy over this admission. However, looking at the face of her lover, Nanao could not fault this Hikari for her dying wish, as it would have been her own.

A corner of Shunsui's mouth titled upwards. "Hikari put everything she had into whatever she did. Eventually, when I got over my own guilt, I realized that she would have wanted me to do the same thing. It's why when I really want something, I refuse to give up until I have it." He smiled down at her lightly and Nanao knew that he was referring to _her_.

She closed her eyes. The sunshine, which seemed so incongruous with her emotions, caused different colors to burst behind her lids. His hand touched her blackened cheek gently.

"So now you know, my Nanao-chan," Shunsui said solemnly. "The hands that hold you every night belong to a killer. Are we not allowed to touch each other anymore?" he said it teasingly, but she could hear the trepidation in his voice.

In response, Nanao threw her free arm around his neck, pressing him to her. He let go of her other hand, so he could wrap his arms around her waist, burying his face gratefully in her hair.

"How did you stand it?" Nanao choked out after a few minutes of silence.

"You force yourself to wake up each day, eventually," he added with a smile. "Slowly, you start to realize that it was not completely your fault. Eventually, the pain becomes bearable. Until then," he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, "you allow your friends to support you, drown your sorrows in sake occasionally, and fill your nights with beautiful women, or in this case, one handsome Taichō."

Nanao swallowed roughly as he reached up and removed her glasses, tossing them a few feet away into the grass. "It _will_ be alright, Nanao-chan," Shunsui assured her, brushing her hair back from her face.

She nodded. As long as he was not disgusted by her, Nanao knew that eventually she could handle the pain. He lowered his head, deliberately placing kisses along her collarbone, up her neck, before pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, coaxing. Nanao returned it automatically, as the desire to forget everything and melt into the strength and warmth Shunsui offered seized her powerfully.

"Please," she pleaded, against his lips. Shunsui's hand trailed down her side to her waist, catching in the sash there, and removing the knot deftly. He never had been able to deny his Nanao-chan anything.

- - -

Shunsui stood up, tilting his head back to gaze for a moment at the stars which seemed to wink down at him, congratulating him for so successfully distracting Nanao's mind from her guilt. He knew it would return again tomorrow, and while he dreaded seeing the pain creep back into her eyes, he knew he would look forward to finding more ways to divert her.

He held a hand out to help her to her feet, chuckling as she stumbled and fell into him.

"Sorry," she apologized, blushing. "My legs feel rather weak. Oh, don't look so smug," she added, the stern quality in her voice ruined by the small yawn at the end.

"I don't look like anything of the sort, Nanao-chan," Shunsui smirked, sweeping her into his arms when her legs gave out on her again.

- - -

Nanao shivered when Shunsui placed her on the bed, feeling the lack of warmth immediately. Her hands trembled, both from exhaustion and the inescapable bone-chilling cold, as she removed her uniform without bothering to fold it. She wrapped herself snugly in the heavy royal blue robe Shunsui had given her to wear on the winter nights when the mere heat between them was not enough to sleep comfortably.

Nanao was comfortably tucked into bed when Shunsui returned, clad in a sleeping yukata and carrying a glass of water, his hair re-tied in a neater ponytail.

"Here you are, my lovely Nanao-chan," he said warmly, handing her the glass. She gave him a small smile, wondering if he could somehow read her mind. She was thirsty but unwilling to leave the warmth their bed provided.

Nanao took small sips, her eyes following Shunsui automatically as he slid into the other side of the bed. She put the glass down on the bedside table, turning instinctively into his embrace.

"You're hands are freezing, Nanao-chan," he commented, encasing them with his own.

"I'm alright," Nanao assured him. For, at that moment, she was.

Yet, as she let her favorite lullaby, the steady thrum of his heart, lead her into sleep, Nanao could not help but think that while Shunsui could heal her heart, there were some things he could not fix. She delved deep inside herself, seeking any small flicker of reiatsu, the force of her usually ever-present kidō power. There was nothing there.

If this continued, Nanao thought with a shudder, Tanaka Botan might still get his wish. For who would bother to keep a powerless bookworm of a fukutaichō around?

* * *

A/N: Help me feel confident taking my English IB test by reviewing! Okay, I'm going to go put on my own literal brace for the pain…tendonitis sucks.


	7. The Burdensome Truth

A/N: Alright, I have to admit that I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It was actually supposed to be the first part of chapter seven, but I decided to split it into two parts because I felt it made for better reading. My IB tests are done this week, so you can be expecting quicker updates in the near future. Happy reading!

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter Seven: The Burdensome Truth**

"Are you alright, Shunsui?" Ukitake eyed his oldest friend who sat across the table from him on the small patio adjoining his quarters in the Thirteenth Division. Shunsui was not sprawled with his usual grace across the many cushions surrounding them. Instead, the Eighth Division Taichō was staring thoughtfully into the unadorned teacup he was holding.

"I'm fine," Shunsui responded automatically, his head shooting up at the question.

"Really?" Ukitake returned skeptically. "You seem a bit distracted." In his opinion, that was a hefty understatement, as Shunsui had reverted to staring into the light brown liquid as if it contained the answers to all of the questions in the universe.

"It's nothing," Shunsui stated firmly.

"It's Nanao-san," Ukitake corrected quietly. Shunsui blinked through the haze of steam, meeting his friend's benign and knowing smile. He, like so many before, buckled immediately under the irresistible waves of understanding which Ukitake exuded like his personal aura.

"How did you know?" Shunsui said with a suspicious glare.

Ukitake shrugged noncommittally. "Little else in this world concerns you. Besides, it's only nine-thirty in the morning and you're awake. If that was not enough, you are sitting up straight and are staring at your tea as if it is some rare artifact," Ukitake smiled. "Not to mention the fact that you didn't even ask for some sake to put in your tea. May I ask what about Nanao-san is bothering you?"

Shunsui took a sip of tea, grimacing when it burnt his tongue. He put the cup down on the table and leaned his head on his hand. "She's acting strangely."

"How so?" Ukitake inquired, setting his own cup down, brow knitted in concern.

"She hasn't been completing her share of the paperwork." Shunsui cringed as Ukitake dropped his cup in shock, the almost empty cup hitting the table with a dull thud. Its owner paid it no heed as it continued to roll across the polished wood.

"She _what_?" Ukitake demanded flabbergasted. Ise Nanao not completing her share of paperwork was akin to Rukia not hitting Ichigo _at least_ once every day― it just simply did not happen.

"She hasn't been _in_ the office to do her paperwork," Shunsui amended. "She keeps sneaking off to the Academy library before sunrise and comes back after dinner. Then she works on paperwork until the early hours of the morning when I force her to come to bed. _And_," Shunsui paused; it was evident to Ukitake that this was obviously Nanao's worst transgression, "she sleeps on the _opposite side_ of the mattress!" Shunsui wailed miserably, flopping forward onto the table.

Ukitake pressed his lips together thoughtfully, carefully righting his overturned cup and pouring himself more tea. "You don't possibly think this could be a reaction to last week's incident, do you? Perhaps Nanao-san is suffering from some stress caused by the…tragedy. Have you consulted Retsu?"

"No," Shunsui mumbled into the table. "I know it's probably illogical, but I want Nanao to come to me on her own and tell me what's wrong. I've been trying to give her space but…the _opposite end_ of the mattress!" he whimpered.

"That is…very smart," Ukitake remarked, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, don't sound so surprised, Jyū-chan," Shunsui said, propping his chin up to glare at his friend. "You make it sound as if I don't know how to handle my own lover. It's practically insulting."

Ukitake smiled lightly. "Well, if one does look at your track record, you did not always have such insight when it came to Nanao-san. However, given the present circumstances, the direct approach you usually favor might be more appropriate."

"What are you suggesting I do, Jyū?" Shunsui asked exasperatedly.

"What you always do," Ukitake returned simply. "Stalk her, badger her until she tells you what you want to hear, assuage her fears, carry her off to bed and then silently toast yourself with a bottle of sake for a job well done."

Shunsui gulped down the rest of his now cold tea with a sense of satisfaction. Now that Jyū mentioned it, the 'direct approach' always did seem to work well with Nanao…eventually. All he had to do was confront Nanao when he found her.

"Jyū-chan, you really are as wise as they say," Shunsui said, reaching for the teapot.

"I merely try to help those I can," Ukitake responded modestly.

"Do you have any sake to put in this?" Shunsui gestured to the cup in front of him, causing Ukitake to grin.

- - -

On the other side of the Seireitei, Nanao covered her yawn with one elegant hand. She had not been sleeping much lately, her brain refusing to stop the perpetual search for answers as to why her reiatsu, and therefore her kidō store, had not replenished.

She was, in some strange way, grateful for the problem. It gave her mind something to keep it busy, successfully preventing it from dwelling on the _emotional_ side-effects of the fight with the late Tanaka Botan. She was also extraordinarily glad that Shunsui was so worried with how she was coping emotionally, that he had, impossibly, not noticed that she was currently lacking all trace of reiatsu.

It was a situation she knew could not last. It was inevitable that Shunsui would confront her about it. They would have to talk, but Nanao was not quite sure what they could discuss except…what would happen if it did not return. Ever.

Brow furrowed in contemplation, Nanao clutched the book she had just checked out from the Academy library. She would begin reading it as soon as she got back to the office, as long as Shunsui was not there. Seeing as it was only ten o'clock, she highly doubted he would even be up. She hoped Shunsui had also failed to notice that she had not been completing her usually paperwork load. Generally, she did more than was expected of her and almost half of his. Lately, she had been lucky if she completed a third of that amount a day.

_It can't continue like this, _Nanao thought heavily as she opened the door to the office and started to head towards her desk. She started when she realized that there was already somebody sitting behind it.

"What are you doing?" Nanao demanded of the petite brunette who was carefully writing something on a rather official-looking document, her tongue poking out slightly between her lips.

"Forging your signature," Okuni replied, setting down the brush and blowing slightly on the drying ink. "Pretty good, don't you think?" She held the paper up for examination.

"And why are you forging my signature on official documents?" Nanao asked darkly, placing the book in an empty space on the shelf behind her desk, figuring no one would even bother to look at it there.

"To make it look like you've been doing your share of the paperwork," Okuni answered matter-of-factly. "Why don't you eat while we hold this discussion? Taichō's going to start force-feeding you if you lose anymore weight," Okuni waved her hand to the tray which sat, beckoning to Nanao, on Shunsui's desk. Nanao had to admit that she was incredibly hungry.

Nanao pulled a chair up to the opposite side of her own desk and, retrieving the tray, began to eat. She studied Okuni with narrowed eyes as she nibbled on a rice ball. Okuni was already half-way through penning Nanao's signature on another document. Nanao noted that this one was better than the last.

"How did you know?" Nanao said bluntly.

"Did you forget that I'm in charge of organizing all of the paperwork which needs to be sent out at the end of the month? You usually leave the completed paperwork in a stack on the edge of your desk every night. A squad member takes the completed forms and switches them out for the next day's load. Lately, though, there hasn't been any completed work waiting at the edge of your desk," Okuni explained, dipping the brush carefully into the inkpot before starting on a new form.

"Squad members are already starting to notice. I figured that _something_ had to be done before the higher-ups begin to realize that something isn't quite right in the Eighth and come to investigate the strange happenings. Such as how the division's fukutaichō has no traceable reiatu and hasn't had one since last week."

Okuni placed the brush in the inkpot slowly, her eyes meeting Nanao's shocked gaze. "How long did you think it would take until someone tried to look for you and couldn't find you? Or wondered why you've been shivering all the time? Saw you were missing almost every meal? Or, most obviously, avoiding Kyōraku Taicho like a plague of hollows performing Kabuki Theater?"

Nanao set down the rest of her partially-eaten second rice ball. "I…" she began, but couldn't find any words to follow her friend's pronouncement.

"I don't know what to say either," Okuni admitted, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. "All I know is that I will do whatever it takes to keep the others from finding out as long as possible. You should talk to Taichō, because if the Eighth is called to fight, he and I are the ones who can cover for you the easiest."

Okuni stood up and walked around the desk, wrapping her arms around Nanao's motionless shoulders. "Never forget that your friends will protect you," she whispered fiercely. And then Nanao was alone.

Almost automatically, Nanao picked up the rest of her lunch and ate it, her body needing some mindless task to complete while her mind processed what Okuni had just told her. She was not being as discreet as she had thought.

Nanao stood, brushing her uniform off and strode purposefully around to the other side of the desk. Removing the brush from the ink, Nanao marked her signature on the paper with deliberate strokes. She would have to be more careful from now on.

- - -

Shunsui hummed to himself as he entered the office. It was past sundown and he had spent a very enjoyable day lounging in the sunshine of the late-spring day with Ukitake and Matsumoto, who had shown up for lunch and simply had not left. The main bounce in his step however, was caused by the knowledge that everything would be alright with Nanao very soon.

Shunsui paused in the doorway not surprised in the least to see his fukutaichō sitting primly at her desk, scribbling away at paperwork. He _was_ slightly surprised to see her slight form shivering in the rather warm office. Quietly, Shunsui walked behind her, removing his haori as he went.

"Good evening, my lovely Nanao-chan," he greeted, kissing her cheek as he wrapped her shoulders in his favorite garment. Nanao jumped slightly at his touch, causing him to frown.

"Hello," she said, reaching up to remove her glasses in order to rub her tired eyes. She returned the spectacles to the bridge of her nose, turning around to look at him. "Where have you been all day?" she asked. Shunsui noted that she didn't sound the least bit aggravated that he had skived off a whole day of office work. Something was _definitely_ wrong with his Nanao.

"With Jyū-chan and Ran-san," he replied, moving his hands down her arms as his lips lingered in the hollow behind her ear. He frowned as he felt the coolness of her skin on his.

Nanao froze under his touch before standing abruptly. "I'm going to get some dinner," she stated, heading toward the door.

Shunsui followed after her, the frown deepening. "You haven't eaten yet?" he asked rhetorically. "I'll come and sit with you," he offered.

"No," Nanao said, her hand hovering over the door handle.

"I can't come and keep you company while you eat, Nanao-chan?" he asked bemused.

"I thought you would want to go to bed early, you must be tired," she supplied lamely, moving to pull the door open.

"You're not even going to yell at me for doing absolutely no work at all today?" he demanded, slamming his palm angrily against the door, causing it close with a snap. Nanao took a step to the side, attempting to avoid being caged in by him at all costs.

It was too late, she realized as she turned to see his other arm already in place, holding her captive. Hesitantly, Nanao turned to face him and her heart plummeted at the mix of hurt and anger in his eyes.

"What is _wrong_ with you, Nanao?" he asked softly.

"I suppose I haven't been feeling my best this week, that's all," she lied, breaking their gaze.

"Don't lie to me, Nanao," he said, bending his face to hers. "You've been avoiding me."

"I have not," Nanao tried to deny it. Shunsui, frustrated by her aloofness, resorted to action.

Whatever lie Nanao had been about to mutter was lost as his lips crashed over hers. Nanao gasped as she found herself crowded against the wood of the door. Shunsui's hand tugged at her hair, tilting her face upward into his almost violently desperate kiss.

"Why can't you trust me, Nanao?" he murmured against her lips when they broke apart, lungs striving for air.

"I do," she returned quietly. "I just don't want to be a burden to you." Nanao leant her head back against the door, allowing her body to sag in defeat.

"Yare, Nanao-chan," Shunsui chuckled, "don't you know that the possibilities are much more burdensome than the truth?" The hand not holding her around the waist parted the fold of her uniform to reveal the jagged scar just above her heart.

"How could you ever be a burden to me, Nanao?" he whispered, suddenly serious again. His fingers traced the puckered flesh. "How could this ever be a burden, when it makes us both so happy?"

He pressed his palm against her racing heart. His skin was warm, abnormally so. It took Nanao a few seconds to realize that his hand was surrounded by a warm glow of reiatsu and… that nothing was happening.

There was a swooping sensation in her stomach as she waited for him to realize that the almost unbearable pleasure, usually caused by their reiatsus meeting this way, was not going to come. She closed her eyes hard and when she opened them he was staring at her, his eyes wide with the weight of the revelation.

"Nanao…" he breathed in shock.

Nanao shook her head, unable to answer. She threw herself out of his suddenly limp embrace, throwing the door open and running off into the night.

* * *

A/N: Review and I'll get the next part out as soon as possible!


	8. Apology in Red Petals

A/N: Well, here is Chapter Eight. I don't really know how I feel about this one. It gave me some difficulty. I still have that nagging feeling that something isn't quite spot on with it, but have decided to overlook it before I rip my hair out in frustration. I'm past due to update on another story I'm working on, so you can expect an update as soon as I'm finished with that. Happy reading!

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter 8: Apology in Red Petals**

The door slid back with the muffled creak of unused wood as Nanao stepped silently into the living room of her former quarters. The smell of must and disuse assaulted her nostrils. Nanao couldn't remember the last time she had been there. The set of rooms was now mainly used as storage for Nanao's prolific collection of books― all of her other belongings had slowly filtered into Shunsui's rooms over the first year they had been together.

Nanao rubbed her eyes behind her glasses with a defeated air. She had considered seeking comfort in the over-exuberant arms of Matsumoto, but she doubted that her best friend would be alone, and Nanao didn't want to wake Hitsugaya. Moreover, Nanao knew that the minute she sought out her friends she would be forced to tell them of her predicament. _Right now_, Nanao thought, _the less people who know that I have potentially lost my reiatsu for life, the better. _

Nanao knew that she had hurt Shunsui by running away. But the fact of the matter was that being around him made her even more aware of the fact that she faced a future alone, far away from the happy-go-lucky members of Eighth and the affections of its Taichō. At the same time Nanao wanted solitude to figure things out, she also desperately wanted to turn around and run back into Shunsui's arms and bury herself in his warmth while his soothing voice reassured her that everything would work out somehow.

It was the first time in as long as she could remember that she could not think of a course of action which would help to solve the current crisis. She had balanced the Eighth Division's budget for over a century, yet she could not find a reasonable course of action.

Except one.

Cringing at the thought, Nanao absent-mindedly retrieved a cloth from a box perched on a table and began the tedious process of dusting each of her precious volumes. She welcomed the task as she was always able to focus better when there was work to be done.

It would not be long until the news broke. Okuni was right, someone would need to find her soon and not be able to trace her reiatsu. As the Seireitei had not been in a state of war for some time now, there was no reason for her to be constantly masking it, so she could not use that as an excuse. If the Eighth Division was called upon to fight she would endanger both Shunsui and Okuni if they tried to cover for her. She was a liability…a walking secret waiting to be exposed, a ticking time-bomb of potential disgrace.

The motion of Nanao's hand on the leather-bound tome she was holding ceased abruptly. The one plan she had so quickly brushed aside had crept back upon her in stark clarity. Nanao replaced the book on the shelf. She adjusted her glasses nervously, the flash of the moonlight on the lenses gleamed like a warning flare in the darkness. Nanao could not believe she was even considering it…_yet_…

Nanao strode to the door, her mind racing. If she was going to go through with this, she had some things she would have to do first…

- - -

Shunsui leant his head back against the wall. He propped his foot up restlessly on the window seat that he had had installed for Nanao in their small living room. They had often sat there together, Nanao's eyes greedily scanning the contents of the page she was reading, while Shunsui was content to hold her against him and greedily scan her absorbed face.

Worry clenched at his heart. Sleep, which usually came so easily to him, eluded him at the thought of Nanao, possibly anywhere and without her primary form of defense. He sat as the hours ticked slowly by, each moment filled with more uncertainty than the next.

At first, he had wondered if the reason that Nanao's reiatsu had remained unresponsive to his was because she no longer felt the same way about him. He had conceded that it was not impossible for Nanao to no longer return his sentiment. There _was_ a considerable age gap between them, which Shunsui tended to overlook because he figured when one lived for centuries at a time, age became rather insignificant. He thought that Nanao had the same outlook, but she was young woman with little previous relationship experience. Perhaps she had thought that she had found what she was looking for in him, but had come to realize that it was not the case.

He attempted to dismiss the notion entirely, but the doubt lingered in his mind. Nanao would not continue to pretend to care for him if she did not. She was far too practical and considerate to do that. However, she _was_ involved with her superior officer. Did she think that he would kick her out of the division if she told him the truth?

Shunsui took a long swig of sake. Pondering things over like this was not leading to any answers; it was merely making him anxious. He had considered attempting to find Nanao, but had decided to wait to where she was most likely to return eventually. Most of her precious belongings, including her zanpakutō remained here. If Nanao indeed had plans to…_leave_ him…she could not do it without coming here first. And he would be waiting.

Shunsui rubbed a hand over his face and resisted the urge to laugh derisively at himself. At least he now knew what had been the source of the niggling feeling he'd had all week that something was not quite right. He had been so worried about trying to keep Nanao near him so that he could make sure she didn't attempt another stunt like throwing her zanpakutō into the river, that he had not noticed her lack of reiatsu. She had always returned just as he was about to search for her. This had successfully prevented him from attempting to seek out her reiatsu, and Nanao's physical presence had pushed the thought from his mind.

Placing his bottle down beside him, as it had done nothing to help ease his distress, Shunsui took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his reiatsu…probing, searching the Seireitei for even a flicker of Nanao's spiritual signature. While she had always been adept at masking her reiatsu, Shunsui, who seemed to be more in tune to her than anyone else, had somehow always managed to find her. But not tonight…

"You were searching for me?" Shunsui's hand stilled in its search for the bottle neck, his eyes flying open.

"Nanao-chan," he breathed, "you came home." Nanao stepped into the room, closing the door with her hip, since her arms were occupied balancing a large stack of books. Shunsui was so astonished to see her standing there as if it were any normal night that he couldn't bring himself to move.

"Of course I did," Nanao returned quietly, sliding the tomes onto the table in the center of the room, next to the large bowl of red blossoms in the middle.

"How did you know I was looking for you?" Shunsui asked, sliding his feet onto the floor.

"I could feel your reiatsu move past," Nanao returned, adjusting her glasses. "You shouldn't have bothered, there's nothing to find," she added briskly.

Something about this comment bothered Shunsui, but he did not take the time to dwell on it, as he feared that Nanao was about to run out on him again. "Nanao," he began, his gaze resting on the worn floorboards beneath his feet. He struggled, trying to find the words to express himself.

Suddenly, she was in front of him, her hands falling tentatively to rest on his broad shoulders.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," she stated. "I was…frightened of the implications this might have for our division and for… _us_."

Shunsui grabbed her hand where it was subconsciously smoothing the silk fabric of his haori and pressed his lips to her skin, which still felt abnormally cool to touch. "It _will_ be alright, Nanao," he assured her quietly, his eyes burning into hers with sincerity. "No matter what tomorrow brings us, we'll face it together, like we always have."

Nanao swallowed against the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. "I knew you would say that," she whispered.

"My intelligent Nanao-chan knows me too well," Shunsui replied, resting his hand on her hip.

Nanao nodded, extricating herself from his embrace. Shunsui resisted the urge to groan at the action.

He watched warily as she reached up and removed the pin from her hair, letting it fall and come to rest invitingly on her shoulders. She placed the hairpiece neatly on top of the books, her glasses following.

Though Shunsui knew that she had no such intentions, he could not help but feel that Nanao was teasing him as she bent down and removed her sandals and socks, tucking them neatly underneath the table. Shunsui stood slowly as he watched Nanao slowly peel away the layers which hid the true form of the woman he loved.

She padded her way back to him, her long fingers playing listlessly with the glass pendant at her throat. Shunsui's mind belatedly registered that she seemed nervous about something.

Hesitantly, Nanao reached up and removed the pink haori from his shoulders, letting it slide to the floor in a gentle rustle of silk. Her hands, trembling inexplicably, let the white haori which denoted his rank, follow soon after. This was how Shunsui liked it, when nothing stood between them, not his higher rank, ridiculous rules or regulation. It was merely him and Nanao in the moment, letting themselves just…_be_.

Shunsui lifted his hand to caress her face but Nanao caught his hand and held it firmly between her own. She looked up, her violet-blue eyes flickering in the darkness.

"_I love you, Shunsui." _

The words rang in the sudden stillness. Neither one of them moved for a moment as the weight of Nanao's confession sank into them both. The air which had moments ago seemed stagnant and repressive suddenly seemed electrically charged.

The implicit trust behind the statement― that Nanao was finally able to admit her feelings for him, with no fear of betrayal or expectation of regret― released a wave of euphoria over Shunsui. He moved to pull her closer but Nanao shook her head, a small smile on her face. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him gently.

"Tonight is mine to give," she whispered, her voice uncharacteristically hoarse, whether with passion or with raw emotion Shunsui could not tell. Shunsui turned his head, his waiting lips gratified to find her mouth hot on his.

Her hands tangled in his hair, his bowing her small body against his larger one. Though it had been a little over a week since he had held his Nanao like this, it seemed like centuries. Her lips traced the line of his throat, down to the exposed skin of his chest.

"Nanao-chan," he gasped when she bit down gently on his flesh. She drew back, gliding her hands down his arms until their fingers were intertwined.

Granting a request which had no need for inadequate words, Shunsui followed Nanao into their bedroom.

- - -

Nanao waited until Shunsui's snores evened out, certain that he was too exhausted from the emotional stress of the day to even bat an eye if the Seireitei was unexpectedly attacked.

She slipped out of bed and into a clean uniform. In the other room, she bound her hair tightly and slid the books she had removed from the library earlier that evening into the large rucksack she carried with her during rare long field missions.

Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall. She only had a twenty-minute window…

Nanao slung the bag over her shoulders before padding soundlessly into the bedroom once more. Her eyes tried to memorize Shunsui's sleeping profile, the contented smile which curved his lips in the depths of his slumber. She was glad that she had at least been able to give him this…

Her hand curved around the hilt of her zanpakutō, tucking it securely into its concealed sheath in the neckline of her uniform. Its weight felt unfamiliar, as if the burden of the life she had taken, and in turn lost her reiatsu for, had made the blade heavier.

Nanao exited the bedroom, snatching up the bowl full of blossoms as she passed. She paused only to leave a message for Shunsui on her desk downstairs before slipping into the darkness once more.

- - -

Shunsui stretched in the early morning sunlight, his heart and body more than satisfied by the activities of the night before. He reached one arm across the bed to draw Nanao into his side, as it was still much too early for her to be in the office. His hand stilled when it found her side of the bed empty. His eyes shot open in alarm.

"Nanao-chan?" he called, sitting up. Silence was the only answer he received. Swearing, Shunsui dressed in the nearest uniform he could find, rushing out into the apartment. His eyes fell on the table where the items she had placed there the night before― her hair clip, glasses, and books― were all missing. Shunsui tried to force himself not to panic. She was probably just in the office; she had been behind on paperwork…

He flash-stepped down the stairs, skidding to a halt in the abandoned office. There was no sign that Nanao had been there. It looked exactly the same as it had last night when he had cornered her against the door.

He turned, a flash of red in the direction of Nanao's desk catching his attention. He walked over slowly to gaze down at the impeccably neat surface of his fukutaichō's desk.

Shunsui's large hands gripped the edge of the polished wood so tightly in his calloused hands that he was surprised it did not snap off. For there, on the desk lay his favorite red blossoms arranged to spell out the words _I'm sorry_.

- - -

Nanao pushed her bangs off of her sweaty forehead as she leaned gratefully against the gray concrete of the nearest building. She had never run like that in her entire life. Unable to use shunpo Nanao had been forced to sprint the entire length of the portal between the world-gate on the outskirts of the Academy grounds to the one here, in Karakura Town, every second determining whether or not she would be trapped forever in between worlds.

She would have preferred to have arrived at a different location, but she could not bring herself to be ungrateful that there had been a change of shifts so soon after she had decided to leave. Dressed in her dark uniform and with no traceable reiatsu, it had been incredibly easy to slip past the two unseasoned sentries who had been guarding the gate.

A part of her refused to acknowledge that she had taken the cowardly way out. Nanao tried to convince herself that she had had no other choice, and that she had done the right thing. She could not make Shunsui choose between his division and her, if it came down to it. So, Nanao had decided to remove herself from the picture entirely.

She would acquire a gigai and forge her way in the living world. She had no reiatsu to detect and therefore would be perfectly invisible to any search party sent after her. She would wait here for her powers to recover, or if they never did, she would already have created a life, separate from her friends, her division and…

Nanao pushed herself off of the scratchy façade of the building and began making her way aimlessly down the street. She had to admit begrudgingly to herself that this was _not_ one of her better thought-out plans. She knew that if things became impossible she could always seek help _there,_ but she knew better than to expect that her privacy would be respected if that happened.

Nanao was so absorbed in thoughts of what exactly she was going to do and where she was going to obtain a gigai that it wasn't until the second shrill cry sounded in the air that Nanao realized she wasn't the only non-living being in the vicinity.

She whirled around, her eyes scanning her surroundings, widening when they took in the large, white-scaled hollow that had managed to sneak up on her. The creature roared its unearthly battle-cry, the leering grin of its mask taunting her inability to blast it with kidō.

Nanao lowered her pack to the ground as carefully as possible, so as not to harm the books inside, her hand already diving into the collar of her uniform for her zanpakutō.

The hollow took one lumbering step towards her, its clawed feet denting the pavement with an almost deafening crunch. Nanao could barely assume an attack position before the hollow wheeled around in the opposite direction, its enormous spiked tail whipping around and knocking Nanao clear into the concrete wall she had previously been leaning against.

Nanao blinked through the shock of pain, amazed as a small orange and black blur came hurtling through the sky at the hollow's head. There was a sound like a whip crack as the creature's mask was split cleanly in two, its body disintegrating like ash in the wind.

Nanao's unexpected ally landed gracefully on the pavement, feet making little noise as they touched down on the dented concrete. The woman turned, tossing her gleaming purple ponytail over her shoulders as her trademark golden eyes surveyed Nanao with unveiled curiosity.

"Well, well, well," Shihōin Yoruichi practically purred, "and Kisuke promised me that today wouldn't be interesting."

Nanao groaned inwardly. She had gone and done the last thing she had wanted to do.

She had run straight into Division X.

* * *

A/N: I know, I know. You're probably all like BVB, what gives? However, you'll find that out in the next chapter. In the meantime, give me a graduation present and review. I'M A HIGH SCHOOL GRAD!


	9. In Dreams

A/N: Hello everyone. Sorry for the wait for this chapter. My friend Debbie and I have been trying to catch up on our long neglected Harry Potter fanfic, Points in the Right Direction ( it's really good, you should all go read it). So, I've been working on this little by little. I am trying my best to update as often as possible. On a different note, I am attempting to write many of the main characters for the first time and finding them quite vexing as many of them don't want to stay in character because I want to progress the plot along quicker. So, please forgive me, I did try very hard to produce a good chapter with the characters…in character.

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter Nine: In Dreams**

Nanao tried her best to straighten out her appearance as she walked numbly behind Yoruichi. She pulled a piece of her ruined clip out of her hair. It had been smashed completely when the hollow had thrown her against the wall. She brushed dust off of her shoulders and the badge of rank on her forearm. Nanao stared at the familiar insignia, trying to decide whether or not to remove it, but decided that it would do no good, as Yoruichi had no doubt already noticed it.

Nanao noticed the former Special Forces commander sending her covert glances from the corner of her eyes as she walked barely a pace ahead. Nanao wondered exactly what was going to happen to her now that she had run into one of the very last people she had wanted to meet. Nanao knew that nothing good could come of this situation. She was being escorted to Division X's headquarters where her Taichō would no doubt be informed of her whereabouts immediately.

Nanao glanced up, surprised to see that they had already reached their destination.

"Kisuke," Yoruichi said by way of a greeting as she slid the back door of the Urahara Shoten with a click.

"Ah, Yoruichi, you're back," Urahara Kisuke said, a definite note of pleasure in his voice. "I was just about to―" he trailed off abruptly as he caught sight of Nanao. "Well, _look_ at what the cat dragged in," Urahara commented, using his fan to hide his delight at this turn of events. A visitor from Soul Society always meant that things were about to get more interesting. And _interesting_ was one thing that had been lacking in Karakura lately.

"Kisuke, we have a visitor," Yoruichi proclaimed, removing her shoes and slinking down onto her usual cushion next to him at the table. "This is Fukutaichō―?" Yoruichi's golden eyes fell on Nanao expectantly.

"Ise Nanao," Nanao supplied, knowing that attempting to hide her identity was pointless.

It was a mark of how long Urahara and Yoruichi had been friends that both raised an eyebrow at the exact same moment. Or, at least Nanao thought Urahara had raised an eyebrow for the brim of his striped hat had risen ever so slightly.

"Kyōraku's girl?" Yoruichi asked rhetorically, not even attempting to bite back her smile as the girl across from her bristled. "I've heard about you."

"You belong to the Eighth?" Urahara chuckled, waving his fan dismissively. "I'm surprised Kyōraku-san let you out of his sight. He's usually so protective of his female officers."

"So, Ise-san," Yoruichi said, her mouth tilting upward as she predicted the reserved-looking young woman's reaction to her next comment, "what exactly is a full-fledged fukutaichō doing here, getting beaten up by an ordinary hollow?"

"Now, now, Yoruichi," Urahara said, tapping his now closed fan on her arm in a patronizing manner. He smiled despite the rather vengeful glare she was giving him. "You should know better than to interrogate our guests right after they've arrived. Besides, it would be pointless for her to tell her story right now."

"It's pointless?" Yoruichi hissed, her back arching in a rather catlike manner.

"Yes, she'll just have to tell it again anyway," Urahara said, turning back to Nanao, his eyes alight with amusement. "The Taichō has been summoned."

- - -

Okuni started where she stood at the counter of the small fabric store she frequented. She had stopped in on her way back from her early morning training in the woods on the outskirts of the Seireitei. Okuni had been in the process of buying some material to make Nanao a new scarf to replace the one she'd lost in the 'incident' when she felt the explosion of Kyōraku Taichō's reiatsu.

She quickly deposited a bill on the counter and swept the material up, stuffing it in the colorful bag she had slung across her shoulder.

"Keep the change!" Okuni called to the baffled-looking shop owner as she bolted out of the door. She covered the distance to the Eighth Division office so quickly that she was sure it would have been a personal record had she been timed.

"Taichō!" she cried urgently, kidō flaring in her hand. Fully expecting some sort of freak hollow attack or medical emergency, Okuni threw her petite shoulder against the door. It swung open violently, a crunching sound indicating that the door handle had just imbedded itself in the wall.

Her large brown eyes swiveled wildly around the room, blinking in confusion as they took in the sight of her captain clutching the edge of Nanao's desk as if he might collapse without its support. His reiatsu lit around him, electric blue with a faint pink tinge. Its immense power had created a small whirlwind in the office, causing paper and red petals to dance around him as if he was some strange god of nature.

"What's the emergency?" she asked, completely befuddled. She kept the fistful of demon magic at the ready, wildly wondering if Kyōraku Taichō was being targeted by an assassin and was suffering from the nasty aftereffect of a poison dart.

Okuni attempted to reach Shunsui, but quickly found herself gasping for breath as his reiatsu continued to surge even higher. "Taichō," she wheezed, falling to one knee, "what is going on? Taichō!" she rasped desperately, her suddenly weak body falling onto her forearm. She lobbed the ball of kidō towards him, in a last-ditch effort to be able to fill her burning lungs with air.

The spell seemed to bring Shunsui back to reality. His eyes fell to the source of it, immediately widening as they took in his third seat, gulping for air on the floor. "Okuni-san!" he made to rush to her side but she held out her hand.

"Wait…reiatsu…down…more," she managed to say before rolling over on her side and coughing feebly, her breathing still harsh.

Shunsui inhaled deeply and made a concerted effort to draw his reiatsu back within himself, feeling the power wane under his strict control. When he was sure that he had regained his usual reiatsu output, he knelt in order to help Okuni into a sitting position.

"My apologies, Okuni-san," Shunsui said, the concern evident in his voice, "I… lost myself there for a moment. Are you alright?"

Okuni nodded, her body suddenly feeling as if it had just run the entire length of the Seireitei. It had always been said that Kyōraku Taichō was kept around despite his laziness because he was one of the most powerful and skilled fighters in the entire Gotei Thirteen. Okuni had never doubted the truth behind those statements, but she had to admit that experiencing the sheer might of his uncontrolled reiatsu was downright frightening.

Taking a steadying breath, Okuni turned to study her Taichō's face as he continued to support her. There was an emotion playing on it that Okuni had a difficult time naming, but she knew immediately that whatever had occurred was bad. Very, _very_ bad.

"What happened, Taichō?" she asked, her voice slightly raspy. She glanced around the room, noting that Nanao was nowhere to be found. This was incredibly odd, as Shunsui rarely let Nanao out of his sight these days. Okuni wondered why Nanao hadn't come running the moment she felt Shunsui's reiatsu rise, but then realized that, as Nanao had lost her own reiatsu, she would no longer be able to sense the reiatsu of others.

"Nanao…left without saying goodbye early this morning," Shunsui finally said, offering Okuni a sad smile when she uttered a small cry of protest.

"Where?" Okuni demanded as Shunsui helped her to her feet. Shunsui's answer was interrupted by a sudden influx of people into the office.

Matsumoto was the first to skid into the paper-strewn room, her hand wrapped around Haineko's hilt. She was followed a mere fraction of a second later by Hitsugaya who managed to make a more graceful entrance. A few moments later Ukitake arrived, the entire Eighth Division trailing in his wake.

There was a slightly panicked glance between captain and third seat, before Okuni did the only thing she could think of as everyone started demanding explanations at once, people shoving each other roughly in order to ascertain the well-being of their Taichō for themselves. Okuni gripped the hilt of her sword and initiated her first release, hoping that everyone had been too distracted to notice that Nanao had suddenly materialized out of thin air.

"Silence!" she barked in her best imitation of their fukutaichō when irritated. "Thank you all very much for your concern for Kyoraku Taichō's well-being. As you can all see, he is in perfect condition. The rise in spiritual pressure you felt a moment ago was an instinctive reaction to his… choking on a rather large…rice ball."

Okuni suppressed the desire to grimace at her pathetic excuse as one of Hitsugaya's frosty eyebrows rose. "Please return to your duties," Okuni paused, raising one hand to adjust her illusionary glasses, hoping she achieved the threatening effect Nanao usually did with such an action. "NOW," she concluded.

The Eighth Division members scrambled out of the office, their fears mollified by the calm demeanor of their fukutaichō. Okuni released her zanpakutō with a sigh of relief.

"You should be grateful that what your squad lacks in brains, they make up for in heart," Hitsugaya commented dryly, as his turquoise eyes continued to scan the small office for any sign of a disturbance. "Choking, Takahashi-san?"

"It was all I could come up with on the fly," Okuni returned with a slight scowl. "What are we going to do?" she turned to look up at Shunsui, her chestnut ponytail swinging in an expectant sort of way.

"Why don't you tell us what's going on first?" Ukitake suggested mildly, gazing at his friend as if he was trying to read his mind."

Shunsui ran his hand over his face in an uncharacteristically frustrated motion. "Nanao's gone. She left sometime this morning. I just found the message she left, which is why I…lost control. I don't know where she is." Shunsui sunk onto the top of his desk.

"Can't you just trace her reiatsu?" Matsumoto said brightly, moving to sit next to him. She paused when she saw the pained expression in his eyes.

"Oh no," she breathed softly.

"She lost it totally after the fight and it never came back," Okuni murmured quietly, glancing up to gauge the surprised reactions on the other two captains' faces. "I tried to locate her a few days ago and confronted her about it."

"She could be anywhere!" Matsumoto exclaimed, horrified.

"And she's defenseless," Hitsugaya declared bluntly, staring blandly into Matsumoto's reproachful look.

"What _are_ we going to do?" Matsumoto asked, glancing worriedly at Shunsui.

"Look for her, of course," Ukitake said firmly, meeting Shunsui's deadened gaze with a determined one of his own.

Shunsui nodded, knowing that if he was forced to sit around and do nothing, than he would go insane. Besides, who else could head the search better than he could? He _was_ an expert when it came to chasing Nanao-chan, after all.

- - -

Nanao adjusted her glasses calmly. She did this because she was Ise Nanao, and Ise Nanao _did_ _not_ fidget nervously in any situation. It was not that she feared for her safety in any sense, it was more that she feared for the safety of her secret. She was quite positive that Shunsui would search the Rukongai for her first, and she hoped to have successfully blended into the masses long before he discovered that she had come here. This unplanned run-in with Division X comprised that plan greatly.

Division X was the rebel squad among the Gotei Thirteen. Technically, it was meant to be a subdivision of the Thirteenth Division, a permanent outpost of the Soul Society in the living world, headquartered at the Urahara Shoten. Captained by Kurosaki Ichigo, it was widely acknowledged that Division X was the unofficial fourteenth Division.

Rumor had it that many had pushed for Urahara to be appointed the Captain of the squad, but Yamamoto was too proud to recall the former Captain's banishment or place him in a position of power, even after all he had done during the Arrancar War. It was also rumored that Yamamoto had purposefully chosen Kurosaki as a means to anchor him to the Seireitei until the end of his human life, at which time he would be given a post among the captains' ranks in the Seireitei. Another rumor ran that Kurosaki had been promoted at the urging of Kuchiki Byakyua, who swore that his sister would at least marry a high-ranked man, if she refused to marry one of noble birth.

Nanao had also heard that Yamamoto simply thought that the Gotei Thirteen sounded better than the Gotei Fourteen and that was his sole grounds for refusing to actually name the new Division, which is how it had garnered the name Division X.

"Tea?" Urahara offered with his usual devious smile.

"Yes, thank you," Nanao accepted the offer, discovering with shock that she was feeling rather parched.

She was just about to reach over and take her cup when she sensed a rather angered reiatsu approaching, followed closely by a more controlled one. She was not surprised in the slightest, when the screen slammed open behind her and an incensed Kurosaki Ichigo strode into the room, his petite wife and fukutaichō jogging to catch up with him.

"Alright Hat n' Clogs," he demanded, "what's the big deal? I was trying to get some sleep for once!"

"My, my, Kurosaki-kun," Urahara chuckled behind his fan, "it doesn't seem to me at all that sleep was what you and Kuchiki-san, pardon me, _Kurosaki-san_ were doing."

Nanao had to admit that the strange shopkeeper seemed to be in the right of it. Neither Ichigo nor Rukia had thought to change into shinigami form, and the haphazard nature of their appearance suggested that Ichigo and his wife a few months had not been thinking of the literal definition of _sleep_ in the slightest when Urahara had called. The pair's embarrassed blush confirmed Urahara's assumption.

"This had better be good," Ichigo mumbled threateningly, striding around to sit at the table and pulling Rukia down next to him. They glanced around, their eyes widening simultaneously as they fell on Nanao.

"Who the hell are you?" Ichigo demanded. "Ow," he protested, as Rukia's tiny fist connected painfully with his upper arm.

"Ichigo, don't be rude!" she chastised, her blue eyes glaring at him reproachfully. "Please excuse him, Ise Fukutaichō," Rukia implored upon recognizing her. She gave a small bow of respect.

Ichigo on the other hand, studied Nanao, trying to place her features. He was sure that he had encountered her more than once during his frequent visits to Soul Society. "What division are you from again?" he asked.

Neither Ichigo nor Rukia missed the change in Nanao's almost expression from one of amusement to one of repressed pain. "I was from the Eighth, sir," Nanao replied crisply. The motion of Urahara's fan paused at her use of the past tense.

"Oh, Pink Haori's fukutaichō," Ichigo said, realization dawning. "You're book girl. Sorry for not recognizing you," Ichigo said with an apologetic smile.

A brief smirk swept across Nanao's face. The first time she had ever been properly introduced to Ichigo, she had gone to drag Shunsui away from one of the bars he frequented with Matsumoto. Nanao had been surprised to find the usually apathetic substitute shinigami singing a rather bawdy drinking song, arm in arm with the Sixth Division fukutaichō, his spiky orange head half-cushion in Matsumoto's breasts as she squealed about how cute he was when he smiled.

"It is understandable, sir, you were not yourself that evening," Nanao replied diplomatically, not missing Rukia roll her eyes. She clearly remembered which night they were referring to.

"So," Ichigo began, scratching the back of his head, "what're you doing here? Kyōraku didn't strike me as the type to send you away if he didn't have to. He seemed rather…attached to you."

"He didn't send me here," Nanao admitted, her eyes falling to rest on her neatly folded hands. "I left without telling him."

"Now, why would you do something that unkind to Kyōraku-san, hmm?" Urahara demanded sweetly, his eyes glinting with curiosity over his fan.

"I was challenged by an unranked squad member during a placement competition. I favor kidō in combat," Nanao tried to explain in as few words as possible. "During the fight, something happened and my spells became erratic. I fell unconscious due to blood loss and when I awoke I had lost my reiatsu completely."

"So you fled here because you lost your position?" Yoruichi asked, her golden eyes sizing up Nanao in a disapproving way.

"Of course I didn't lose," Nanao returned coldly. "I came here because my reiatsu has not returned and it has been over a week. My…predicament is becoming harder and harder to conceal. I could not ask my Taichō to risk himself to continue covering for me, or bear to watch him suffer the consequences of attempting to protect me when the truth is inevitably discovered."

Silence descended upon the room at this admonition. Rukia eventually broke it, her brown furrowed. "What are you going to do now?"

"I acquired some volumes which may provide some insight into my situation," Nanao told her matter-of-factly. "I was intending to find some means of blending into the populace while I searched for an answer. If my reiatsu returns in the meantime, then I will return to Soul Society."

"And if it doesn't return?" Rukia inquired, placing her small palms flat on the surface of the table.

"Then I will have already created a life here," Nanao said with an elegant shrug.

"Won't Kyōraku be looking for you?" Ichigo asked uncertainly, glancing at his wife for affirmation. He knew that if any single member of his division left without telling him why, he would track them down and force the reason out of them before dragging them back where they belonged.

"Most likely," Nanao replied. "It is highly unlikely that he will be able to find me without a reiatsu. He will… forget about me in time," she finished determinedly.

"And this is what you want?" Yoruichi asked skeptically.

Nanao could not answer immediately. "I see no other way," she said finally.

The members of Division X looked at each other across the table, seeming to agree without discussion that it was one of those rare occasions in which Ise Nanao was completely, totally, and utterly wrong.

"My, my," Urahara proclaimed after a tense minute, "it's rather late isn't it?"

"And you didn't realize that when you called us over here, you idiot?" Ichigo almost exploded the memory of what he and Rukia had been doing abruptly brought to the front of his mind once more. Ichigo swore as Rukia hit him once more. "What was that for?"

"Don't yell at your subordinates, it shows poor leadership!" she chastised.

"Did your brother tell you that?" Ichigo sneered, rubbing his arm.

"It doesn't matter who told me, so long as it's true," Rukia sniffed, sticking her chin in the air. "Anyway, we must find a place for Ise Fukutaichō to stay until she learns the customs of the real world," Rukia said magnanimously, as if _she_ was in charge of the Division instead of her husband. Nanao wondered if this was partially true.

"Of course, Ise Fukutaichō can stay here and help at the shop until she becomes self-sufficient," Urahara said with exaggerated warmness. He had been lacking in help since Ururu and Jinta had begun attending school. Ichigo, seeing in the glint in Urahara's eyes turned to Nanao.

"I'll see if I can find you a job," he offered, fearing for her safety. He also really didn't want to deal with her Taichō if he found her all hagged-out due to Urahara's slave-driver tendencies.

"Yoruichi-san, why don't you show Ise-san to a spare room while I talk to the Kurosakis about something trivial?" Urahara asked, gesturing to Nanao with his fan, a seeming innocent smile plastered all over his face.

"Come on then," Yoruichi said nonchalantly. Nanao got up with quiet thanks and, lifting her bag, followed her guide's swaying purple tresses down the hall.

- - -

That night, alone in her room, surrounded by strange reiatsus, Nanao slept fitfully. Her waking moments seemed to drag on forever, and her dreams were filled with Shunsui.

_Nanao was running through smoke, surrounded by the unnatural shrieks of attacking hollows. Her hair was disheveled, held back from her face by dried blood which had originated from the gash on her forehead. _

_Nanao recognized the scene with a start. It was the battle five years ago. The one in which she had thrown herself in front of her Taichō. The wound had led to her healing… had made the first dent in her impressive emotional armor…It was this battle which had begun to change their relationship…_

_She darted through the forest, dodging hollows and shinigami alike as she searched desperately for her Taichō. He had left her behind. _

_No, she realized. It was _she_ who had left _him_. She broke through a clearing in the forest and there he was, encircled by hollows, fighting back to back with Ukitake. _

_Nanao attempted to force her way to his side as she had before, but was held back by some sort of invisible barrier. "No!" she cried, beating her fists against the wall that held her back, it burned her arms with fierce red blisters. _

"_Shunsui!" she screamed, as Ukitake ran off to aid Unohana, just as he did all those years ago. But this time, there was no to fight with Shunsui. Nanao tried to fire a shot at the barrier before she realized that she was powerless, she had no reiatsu, no kidō. And yet, she felt a comforting weight against her chest, warm, like a hand over her heart…her zanpakutō. _

_She freed the blade from its sheath, ramming it into the barrier which rained down upon her in shards of white-hot glass. She ran forward only to find Shunsui alone, knocked onto the ground by the single, remaining hollow. _

_Nanao tried to run, throw herself in front of him where she belonged but shunpo was impossible without a reiatsu and…she was too late. _

_Shunsui screamed as the creature's claw raked down his body. Nanao launched herself at the hollow as it turned to her, embedding her tantō in it's skull, even as is its sharp talons closed around her. It turned into an ashen wind which swept over the face of the man she loved, his usually tan skin white under the glow of the moon. _

"_Shunsui!" Nanao gasped as she staggered to his side, her blistered hand cradling his head as blood continued to seep horribly out of the wound. "Why? You promised to never leave me!" _

_Nanao bit her lip to keep from screaming as Shunsui turned his eyes on her, their ageless brown depths filled with a sorrow and a pain that was more unbearable to her than any of the injuries she had received. _

"_I wasn't the one who left, Nanao-chan," Shunsui whispered, blood trickling down the side of his chin. The pain vanished from his eyes suddenly replaced by…nothing._

Nanao screamed as she awoke, tears streaming down her face. She muffled the cry as soon as her racing brain remembered where she was.

_It was just a dream, _Nanao told herself firmly, _just an irrational expression of your subconscious reacting to separation. _Yet, despite the fact that she knew it was illogical, Nanao could still feel the weight of his head in her hands, the blood-matted waves of his hair.

With a broken sigh, she buried her face into her pillow and waited for sleep to take her.

- - -

In the Soul Society, for the first time in his entire life, Kyōraku Shunsui did not sleep at all.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so it wasn't much of a cliffhanger, but I get the feeling you've had enough of those. Please take the time to review so I feel obligated to update sooner! Any feedback would be appreciated (because I'm rather nervous about this chapter if you missed that memo at the top).


	10. Steps on the Right Path

A/N: Alright, alright. I know it's been a while. But you just can't force it. Okay, that's really what I did with this chapter but I hope it's still pretty good. I will try to update more in the following weeks. I still want to wrap this sucker up before I head off to school.

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter 10: Steps on the Right Path**

"What did I miss?" Yoruichi asked as she slid closed the door which led to the hallway. She slunk back down onto her abandoned cushion at the table, her catlike eyes surveying her oldest friend and trying to guess what bombshell he was about to drop on them. Kisuke had an undeniable flair for the dramatic.

"Nothing important," Ichigo said, stretching his long arms into the air and grimacing when they gave a faint pop, "just more of this insane idiot's babbling."

"That hurts, Kurosaki-kun," Urahara said, still unable to make his devious smile disappear. He had to settle for hiding it behind his fan. "Shouldn't you show your master a little more respect? You would not be in the position you are had it not been for my _careful_ training."

Ichigo's eyeballs widened comically in outrage. "Your careful training? I think I had a better chance of dying during training than I did fighting the Arrancar. And that's right," he added, scowling at Urahara, "my position happens to be _higher_ than _yours_."

"Something is not right," Rukia said quietly, effectively overriding the brewing squabble between Ichigo and his former teacher.

"I agree," Yoruichi said, crossing her arms. "Ichigo surely would not have come this far without _my _tutelage." She raised an eyebrow at Urahara who had opened his mouth to contradict her.

"That wasn't what I meant," Rukia snapped. "But if you're going to continue this, then I might as well inform you that Ichigo would not even be a shinigami at all had I not given him my powers." She tilted her delicate chin into the air and glared in a way which strongly resembled her brother's favorite expression, its haughtiness made all the more impressive by the size of her eyes. The three seemed to consider the validity of her argument for a moment before Urahara waved his fan dismissively.

"Then what exactly did you mean, Kuchiki-san?" Urahara asked sweetly. "Pardon me, Kurosaki-san," he corrected as a disgruntled Ichigo opened his mouth.

"Ise Fukutaichō," Rukia continued. "She says that she has lost all trace of her reiatsu...but still…" she trailed off, shrugging her delicate shoulders.

"Rukia's right," Yoruichi nodded, tapping her fingers contemplatively on her upper arm. "If she had indeed lost all of her reiatsu permanently, her zanpakutō would no longer be effective, in fact it would cease to exist. But when I first encountered her, she had it and it looked like she was prepared to use it."

The brim of Urahara's hat rose with his eyebrows. "Interesting," Urahara commented lightly.

"Don't you think she would know?" Ichigo asked, scratching the back of his head. "You know, that it wasn't going to work?"

"An astute observation Kurosaki-kun," Urahara said, reaching out to pat Ichigo on the head patronizingly. Ichigo batted his hand away with air of a young child who deems it's too old to be coddled by its parents. "Yes, most shinigami of a rank like Ise-san's would have a deep enough connection with their weapon to know if something was wrong with it. They would feel it instinctually."

"So that must mean that her reiatsu's not gone, it's just…" Ichigo began.

"Not working?" Rukia finished for him skeptically.

"I've never heard of anything like this in my entire life, Kisuke," Yoruichi drawled dubiously.

"That's why it's so exciting," Urahara practically whispered, his eyes glittering strangely in the shadows of his hat brim.

"Well, keep me posted on what you find out," Ichigo sighed, as he started to rise to his feet. "I'd order you to leave her alone but I know it won't do any good."

"Was there anything else you needed to tell us?" Rukia asked seriously, allowing her husband to help her slide easily to her feet. The deepening of Ichigo's scowl dared Urahara to say anything.

Urahara of course had known Ichigo far too long to be daunted by such a trivial thing. "Why, yes there is Kuchiki-san. Pardon me, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said, practically beaming in delight as a vein on Ichigo's forehead began to throb noticeably. Urahara was well aware of what his former student would rather be doing.

"Ise Fukutaichō was not the reason that I sent for you."

- - -

"This is getting ridiculous," Matsumoto proclaimed to the room at large. She dropped unceremoniously down to the cool wooden planks of the floor, a motion which caused her infamous breasts to come dangerously close to falling out of her uniform.

"Tell me about it," Okuni sighed, falling back onto the empty couch in the corner of the Eighth Division office. Her trembling fingers slipped, causing her zanpakutō to clatter to the ground near Matsumoto's hip. "Sorry," she managed to apologize, both to her weapon and her friend.

"Have some sake, Okuni-san." Okuni glanced up at the owner of the sun-browned hand which held a tempting bottle of the rice wine out in front of her.

"Thanks," she accepted the bottle, pushing herself up so that her head was just high enough to drink without spilling. Shunsui frowned, noticing how the drink shook in her hand.

Shunsui's third seat looked as if she had just survived a marathon battle. Her skin glistened from the perspiration which coated her forehead, her cheeks were flushed feverishly, and her usually shiny ponytail was so unkempt it probably would have prompted Nanao to grab the brush she kept in her desk drawer and wrangle it into a semblance of decency before she would be able to get any work done.

And that was the reason that they were all in such an exhausted state to begin with: Nanao.

It had been two weeks since Nanao had vanished into the night and Shunsui's small search team had spent every spare moment they could combing every district of the Rukongai, searching for any information that would give a clue as to Nanao's whereabouts. Their efforts so far had proven fruitless, and Shunsui was beginning to give up hope. His Nanao-chan was nothing if not intelligent, and it appeared that she was putting all her considerable brain power into not being found.

"She can't keep this up, Kyōraku," Hitsugaya Toshirō declared, as he folded himself gracefully to the ground beside his fukutaichō. His unusually colored eyes were focused on Okuni, whose hand was shaking so much that she was forced to put the bottle down for fear of dropping it.

"I know," Shunsui replied, the unsatisfied frown which he wore so often these days deepening as Okuni unsuccessfully tried to wave off Hitsugaya's concern.

His petite third seat had been following him around to all necessary functions, utilizing the unique ability of her zanpakuto to make it appear as if Nanao was following her Taichō around dutifully, as was customary. But Shunsui had not expected it to be this difficult to find Nanao, and the high amount of spiritual energy required to keep her disguise up for long periods of time was wearing Okuni into the ground. She had not complained once in the last two weeks, but Shunsui knew he could no longer ask her to help buy him time.

"But what about Nanao?" Okuni demanded, turning her head a fraction of an inch to stare meaningfully up at her Taichō. "What if they try and replace her?"

"They won't do that for a while, as long the paperwork keeps getting done," Matsumoto supplied soothingly. The pair groaned simultaneously as they remembered the long night of tediousness which awaited them both after they had spent the day scouring the streets of Rukongai.

"It doesn't matter," Shunsui said, leaning against the couch and pulling the cork out of his own bottle of sake. He winced under the sudden weight of three incredulous stares. "Okuni-san has given me all that she could. It is time we let Nanao disappear like she wanted to," he finished, his finger tracing small circles on the green glass.

"You're giving up?" Hitsugaya asked flatly, raising one snowy eyebrow.

"I'll never give up on my Nanao-chan," Shunsui responded softly. "I'll think of something. And in the meantime," he shrugged, and it struck those gathered in the room how disconcerting it was to see one of the most formidable captains totally helpless, "I'll wait and hope she comes back to me."

- - -

Nanao thumbed through the pages of the thick and colorful manual on the table in front of her restlessly. She sighed as she opened it to the actual first page and finally began to read.

She pushed her new black square-framed glasses up the nose of her gigai. After two weeks she still had not gotten used to the feel of the skin on her faux body, though she could not deny that Urahara's craftsmanship was excellent. For the most part, she could hardly tell she was surrounded by the flesh shell. Her eyes scanned the small print on the large pages greedily and she jotted notes down occasionally on a sunny yellow legal pad with a pen she had taken from the Kurosaki clinic.

She was incredibly grateful to the captain of Division X and his petite wife for all that they had done for her. At first, Nanao had been worried that they were going to give away her location, and all her plans for slipping out of Shunsui's life would have been rendered impossible. Yet, two weeks had gone by and there had been no sign of a pink haori flashing around Karakura, and Nanao couldn't quite conceal the fact that she fiercely missed everything about him from her constantly aching heart.

She pursed her lips and willed her mind back to the dry instructional guide in front of her. Ichigo had called in a favor for her and she did not want to cause him trouble. Besides, she desperately needed the money this job would offer her if she wanted to find a place of her own quickly, and they had even been generous enough to give her the first paycheck in advance.

"_Uh, hey Nanao can I talk to you for a second?" Ichigo Kurosaki asked as he sauntered into the Kurosaki clinic, dodging a roundhouse kick to the head from his father. "Was that necessary, old man?" he demanded, staring at his father with an unconvincing look of disgust. _

"_Of course it was, Ichigo, my boy," Isshin boomed as he returned to the desk to answer the ringing telephone, "for old time's sake." _

_Ichigo didn't bother to respond, running a hand through his hair as he stood on the edge of the sea of metal filing cabinet drawers among which Nanao sat, dillegently sorting years worth of medical records into proper alphabetical order by date. _

"_There was something you needed?" Nanao prompted Ichigo, whose wide eyes were scanning the mess in abject revulsion. _

"_This is what he meant by filing? How could he ever find anyone's records?" Ichigo shook his spiky head. _

"_Its fine," Nanao said with a small smile. "I'm used to organizing things and he pays me more than he should for it." In fact, he paid her two dollars above the minimum wage most filling clerks earned per hour according to the financial magazine Nanao had read in the library the other day. She spent most of her time there when she was not filing for Isshin in the late afternoon and early evening when there were fewer customers. _

_Nanao had learned quickly to avoid Urahara at every cost, leaving quickly after a scant breakfast in order to avoid hours worth of menial cleaning tasks he was too lazy to do himself. She didn't usually eat lunch, as she was trying to conserve as much money as possible and since it was fairly impossible to turn down Ichigo's youngest sister's perpetual invitations to dinner, she was getting by. Ichigo had told her of her father's offer to hire her part time as a filing clerk with the promise of finding her another job since "no one could work under that old-goat for long." _

"_Well, I called in a favor and found you another job," Ichigo informed her, holding out a slip of white paper. She took the paper and read the name printed on it in bold black in. "Ishida Ryūken?" she blinked. _

"_I happened to hear that he needed a new personal assistant and managed to get you the job without an interview. Hope you don't mind doing secretarial stuff," Ichigo added apologetically. "You do know how to work a computer, right?"_

_Nanao nodded. "Mostly. I was familiar with the library databases in the Academy library, I doubt it can be much different." Ichigo looked relieved. _

"_You start Monday at 7:30. Rukia and I won't be here for a while, we're going to visit 'Nii-sama,'" he rolled his eyes at his wife's hero worship of her stoic brother. _

"_And he won't appreciate it if we're late," a disapproving voice interjected from the door. Ichigo whirled around to see Rukia standing in a violet sundress, her small arms crossed menacingly over her chest. Ichigo flashed her a shaky smile. _

"_So, if you need anything you can go to Urahara or anyone else. Threaten them if they don't help you immediately. Especially Ishida," Ichigo said, a slightly smug grin on his face. _

"_Is this Ryūken a relation of his?" Nanao inquired, suddenly remembering why the name sounded familiar._

"_He's Ishida's father," Rukia supplied helpfully. "Ryūken owns the hospital here." _

"_Was the favor you called in one owed by the younger Ishida?" Nanao asked, raising an eyebrow. _

"_Yeah," Ichigo said, scratching his head guiltily. "I kind of reminded him―"_

"_You manipulated his overblown sense of honor, Ichigo. Reminding him that you saved Orihime that one time. You're absolutely shameless," Rukia tutted. _

"_What?" Ichigo demanded, rounding on Rukia, "I was just trying to help someone!" _

"_You could have just appealed to his sense of chivalry instead," Rukia deadpanned, shaking her head in disbelief. "Come on, we have to drop our bodies in the apartment before we go," she said, unfolding her arms and turning to leave. "Good luck Ise-san," she smiled. _

"_Well, see you," Ichigo gave a sheepish grin and turned to follow his wife. "Oh, and whatever you do, don't let it slip to Ryūken that you're a shinigami!" he called over his shoulder as the glass door swung shut with a quiet whoosh behind him. _

Nanao fingered the small sheet of white paper she had kept tucked inside the bag Rukia had given her as a "welcoming present" to the real world. She claimed it came in very useful, and Nanao had to concur with the petite fukutaichō.

Nanao stared at the monetary figure scribbled beneath the date and the time. If she had calculated correctly, she might be able to find a small apartment for rent by the end of her first paycheck, depending on how many hours she put in both at the hospital and at the clinic. She clutched the neatly folded white slip tightly in her hand. It was once step closer to independence, one step closer to blending in with the populace.

And one step farther away from Shunsui.

- - -

Okuni inhaled deeply, smiling slightly as her aching muscles unwound at the mere aroma of the scalding tea she had just poured herself. She didn't know what she would do if Hanatarō hadn't given her this stash of herb-laced tea for when she was sore from missions or training.

She had never needed it more.

Her hand could barely hold the pen in front of her, let alone form the graceful letters which were necessary to forge Nanao's neat signature. She lifted the teacup in her left hand, which thankfully shook less, and let the sweet flavor of the tea roll around her tongue for a moment.

She didn't really mind taking the time, seeing as she was most likely only going to manage a bath and a few hours of sleep tonight before she was forced to wake up and start trying to control the paper deluge again.

She picked up the brush once again and dipped it carefully into the onyx liquid. Holding her right wrist steady with her left hand, Okuni began the exceedingly painstaking process of copying her superior's name onto a small stack of inventory reports. She was so absorbed in the process that she failed to notice her Taichō's reiatsu approaching from upstairs, or hear the telltale sound of the creaking wood on the fourth step into the office.

"Okuni-san?" Shunsui blinked in the dim light of the lamp burning on Nanao's desk. "What are you doing here so late? It's almost one in the morning." He moved to peer over her shoulder. Okuni's tongue was peeking out of the corner of her lips as she placed the final flourish at the end of Nanao's name.

"No, it loops more to the left," Shunsui commented mildly. Okuni jumped causing her teacup to rattle dangerously, her exhausted brain just registering his company. Shunsui's hand shot out, steadying the delicate porcelain cup.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't even know you were here," Okuni admitted, tightening her loosening ponytail. "Tea?" she offered sheepishly.

Shunsui smiled, fetching himself a cup from the shelf in the corner and pouring his own drink from the teapot. "You should be resting Okuni-san. If you get sick from exhaustion, none of the paperwork will get done. Besides," he added, swallowing thoughtfully, "you should probably stop forging Nanao's signature and start using mine. It will look suspicious if a missing woman's signature keeps showing up on official documents."

Okuni bit her lip, her brow wrinkling in worry as she studied the poorly concealed strain etched onto her Taichō's features. He looked so old and careworn, unlike the peaceful, carefree Taichō she had come to love and respect. Okuni was sure he had made the wrong decision to give up on Nanao so quickly.

"You should be resting too, Taichō," she replied, her tone forcefully cheerful. "If Nanao comes back and finds you sick from lack of sleep, she won't be able to do the paperwork while she hits you repeatedly with her book."

Shunsui chuckled, but it wasn't the warm, hopeful chuckle Okuni had been hoping for. "Oh you're probably right, aren't you? You're a tricky little geisha."

"Little geisha?" Okuni asked, her lip quirking up at the corner.

"Yes," Shunsui said. "You've always reminded me of a geisha I once knew in a teahouse I frequented in the second district. You sing, play the samisen, dance with a fan, and serve great tea," he added, lifting his cup pointedly.

"When have I ever danced with a fan in front of you?" Okuni asked, bewildered.

"Your zanpakutō," Shunsui replied, an amused twinkle flaring to life in his eyes before it was almost immediately doused by melancholy.

A heavy silence settled around them. Okuni raised her teacup to her lips only to drop its steaming contents all over her newly completed stack of paperwork when the office door swung open with such force that the handle imbedded itself in the wall.

"Shunsui!" Ukitake gasped, bending over as his weak lungs labored for oxygen.

"Jushirō, what is it?" Shunsui said fearfully, rushing to his friend's side. "Okuni-san, get some water!" he called over his shoulder to the shocked third-seat.

"No, never mind that," Ukitake said, motioning for Okuni to stop. "Shunsui I know," he said, gripping his friend's forearms and staring at him meaningfully.

"You know what?" Shunsui asked, thoroughly confused as to what would bring his best friend here in the middle of the night, wheezing as if he was about to have a full blown attack.

"I know where she is," Ukitake said slowly, pronouncing each word as if Shunsui was the one with the medical ailment who desperately needed to slow down.

"You―" Shunsui began, his earthen eyes burning with a hope he did not dare express in words.

Ukitake nodded, his smile wide. "I found her. _I found Nanao_."

* * *

A/N: And that's the end folks!

Okay, it's not really…but it might be if you don't review!


	11. Impatience and Guilt

A/N: Sorry for the wait on this chapter. Summer camp took up much more of my time than I originally thought it would and I've been busy running around making last minute preparations for college. It looks like I won't finish this before I leave for school, but it will be finished in time. I leave for college this Monday, so don't expect an update for a couple of weeks at least because I'll be busy adjusting to school. Thank you for your understanding. And now, on to the chapter!

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter Eleven: Impatience and Guilt**

Shunsui balked as Ukitake released him, coughing lightly into a handkerchief he kept tucked in the folds of his white haori. "I think I will take that water Okuni-san," Ukitake said kindly to the diminutive brunette who had frozen in shock at his sudden, unexpected, and almost unbelievable news.

"Sake," Shunsui croaked, his throat suddenly parched as well. "I need sake," he reiterated, sinking down into the velvet embrace of the sagging couch, allowing its familiar frame to hold him up as he was rather certain that his knees had given out on him at last. Okuni quickly pulled Nanao's desk chair over near the sofa to provide Ukitake with a place to sit, before scurrying to fetch each friend's requested beverage.

Shunsui stared at Ukitake's benign and knowing smile through a haze of disbelief. He accepted the bottle of sake that Okuni pressed into his hand without so much as glancing at her.

"Where?" he breathed, pinning Ukitake beneath his demanding gaze. Now that his brain had finally begun to process the information, the thought of being able to hold Nanao once more suddenly seemed to take control of every facet of his mind.

"She's in the real world Shunsui," Ukitake said, sipping the water Okuni had given him.

"The real world?" Okuni echoed. "Well that explains not being able to find her," she added dryly as she sank to floor beside Ukitake's chair, cradling a fresh cup of her aromatic tea.

"How did she get through?" Okuni asked. "She doesn't have a private gate, and she definitely did not have clearance." Her large brown eyes flicked over to Shunsui who was still regarding his best friend with a look Okuni was sure she had never seen cross her Taichō's face before. It could only be described as calculating. "This is Nanao we're talking about here, of course she found a way," Okuni muttered, offering a small smile when Ukitake laughed.

"How did you find all this out?" Okuni continued her line of questioning, daring and exciting retrieval plans already forming in her head. She had only been to the real world once, and she hadn't been able to take in the scenery so to speak, as she had been too busy fighting for her life the entire time. A visit which would end in an unarguably happy ending for her Taichō was all the more appealing.

"It was the Thirteenth's turn to oversee the Academy's training session," Ukitake explained. "While I was in the technology division picking up the communicators for the mission, the two gate technicians were discussing the recent dismissal of two sentries due to the appearance of a unidentifiable thing which accessed the senkai portal on their watch."

"Ukitake Taichō, I'm confused," Okuni admitted, "how does this prove that Nanao's in the real world?"

"The gate was opened in order to allow for the exchange of the shinigami sent monthly to help the Karakura Division. However, the shinigami who was supposed to replace the current one, never even made it through the gate because a mysterious being made the gate's sensor read as if the replacement had already gone through. Of course," he added with a wry smile, "Kurotsuchi blamed it on the guards and refused to admit it could have been a technology malfunction. But I think the answer to their mystery is also the answer to ours."

"You think it was Nanao who tripped the sensor?" Okuni asked skeptically.

"It had to be," Shunsui cut in, his eyes practically dancing with hope in the flickering light of the desk lamp. "With no reiatsu, she wouldn't even alert the guards and I bet she was banking on it too."

"Now what?" Okuni said, glancing between the two Captains as if she might be able to read the thoughts flashing between them.

"Now what?" Shunsui echoed, sounding scandalized. "We go find her, of course. But first," he declared, sweeping to his feet, "we have to go through the proper procedure."

He glided over to his desk, throwing open a bottom drawer and began rifling through a stack of forms which threw up so much dust in their wake that Okuni was certain they hadn't seen the light of day since Nanao put them there after her instatement as Eighth Division Fukitaichō.

"Since when have you ever followed the proper procedure?" Okuni asked, putting her cup down and going to lean over her Taichō's shoulder.

"Since it suits my purposes, finally," Shunsui returned cheerily, his boisterous good spirits returned by the prospect of having Nanao at his side once again.

Okuni coughed slightly, blinking through the haze of dust to read the faded heading on the top of the form. "Missing person report?"

"Exactly," Shunsui said, throwing his haori over the back of the chair with air of someone about to play a classical masterpiece on a grand piano. "I couldn't go and bring my Nanao-chan back without at least letting her think she got away with it first."

- - -

Nanao stifled a yawn behind one long-fingered hand, blinking her eyes against the wave of exhaustion that was cresting ever so slowly, certain to crash upon her any moment. She shoved her hair out of her eyes, too tired to even be frustrated as it fell into her face for the millionth time that day. She had taken to wearing it down, figuring altering her appearance from its norm slightly would make searching for her all the more difficult, as her size and stature blended in rather well with the general populace.

She supposed she need not bother with deception anymore, as news of the missing person report Shunsui had filed had reached the Division X outpost that morning. Nanao would be in the clear soon, free from Soul Society and her utter failure as a shinigami. She did not allow her mind to stray to the other things she would soon be separated from.

Nanao's stomach rumbled, an aggravated sound. Her body obviously did not approve of the long hours she was putting in. Her new job was incredibly demanding, or perhaps that was only her stoic employer, the elder Ishida. The distinguished-looking doctor seemed more than married to his work, it appeared that he had achieved a sort of symbiotic relationship with it. Ryūken was always in his office before Nanao arrived and remained there after she had gone home. Nanao had even been putting in more than her required hours, hoping to harvest a good reputation as well as reap the benefits the overtime would have on her paycheck.

After she left the hospital, Nanao would walk the distance to the Kurosaki Clinic where she would continue filing for an hour or two. Yuzu always took the opportunity to press free meals on Nanao at every available chance, and Nanao couldn't complain because she kept on being surprised by how significantly her appetite had grown lately.

Tonight however, Nanao had completely missed her second job as she had been helping Ryūken prepare for an important board meeting the next day.

Her brow furrowed as she remembered sitting across from him at a table in an unused conference room, as she entered information into a form on the laptop computer in front of her. She had glanced up only to find that his own lens-covered eyes were staring at her in an almost accusatory manner, even more unnerving that his son's frequently all too-knowing gaze. He had never digressed from his work, but the moment had struck Nanao as odd. Her boss did not strike her as the type of man who would stare aimlessly into space.

That was the reason Nanao was scanning the passing street for a bookstore. She had been wondering ever since if he had been staring at her because there was a quicker way to enter the data into the computer and was silently questioning her reason for not using it. Of course, never one to allow such a grievous fault as inefficiency to be counted against her, Nanao was determined to research the subject whether the library was open or not.

She pushed her glasses up by the nose in a comforting gesture of determination and rounded a corner. She was gratified with the blinking neon sign, which proclaimed that a neat little shop quaintly named Taking Covers Bookseller, was still open.

She opened the door, the gentle tinkling of bells sounding behind her as the glass door swung shut. Her nostrils were immediately assaulted by the smell of something mouthwatering, which permeated the air of the little shop. Nanao blinked, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Perhaps she was hungrier than she thought.

"Hello," a smooth voice greeted warmly. Startled, Nanao looked to her right where a man sat behind an antique wood desk with a tan cash register set neatly on its corner. He was eating noodles with chopsticks straight out of a carry out carton, obviously the source of the delicious smell. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes," Nanao said, tearing her eyes away from the food and focusing on the man's face.

She blinked, taken aback by his unexpectedly handsome features. He was obvious partly foreign, with jade green eyes and slightly shaggy hair that was a shade or two too light to be called black. He had full lips set in his tan face, the borderline femininity of which was offset by his strong jaw line.

"Do you have computer manuals here?" Nanao continued smoothly. Having worked for decades under one of the best-looking captains in the Gotei Thirteen, Nanao was far beyond being easily thrown off balance by a striking face.

"On the back wall," the man replied. "Would you like some help looking?"

"No, thank you. I'll let you finish your dinner," Nanao replied primly, desperate to get away from the tantalizing smell of the noodles. She made her way to where he had directed her.

Nanao selected a large book with a promising title and was in the process of perusing the back cover when her stomach rolled uncomfortably. The lightheadedness slammed back into her with the force of a blunt zanpakutō.

The book fell from her hands with a clatter as Nanao clutched the shelf in front of her desperately while her vision rolled like a kaleidoscope.

"Are you alright?" the man's voice inquired from the front.

Nanao opened her mouth to reassure him, but only managed to gasp as her suddenly trembling legs gave out on her, her knee hitting the bottom shelf with a painful thud as she buckled to the floor. Nanao's buzzing ears deciphered the sound of heavy footfalls behind her. "What's wrong?" the smooth timbre of the man's voice was agitated slightly by concern.

"I just feel…lightheaded," Nanao struggled to say. Without warning, Nanao found herself in the air, the bookstore worker having swept her up into his arms. She warred with the natural impulse to smack him, as she had so often her Taichō, but could not managed to free her arms from where they had clasped themselves around his neck.

There was the familiar squeak of leather as Nanao found herself placed in a chair, her head gently guided down to rest over her legs.

"There," the man said soothingly, "let the blood flow to your head a little." He knelt down in front of her, smoothing her hair back from her face and removing her glasses from where they had slid down her nose. Nanao felt slightly violated at the action. No one had ever removed her glasses except Shunsui.

Nanao forced herself to breathe deeply as the world slowly righted itself again. "Better, Miss…?" the man inquired gently.

"Nanao, Ise Nanao," Nanao supplied, figuring it was only polite to tell him her name after he had aided her. "I feel much better, Mr…?"

"Kitejima Taro," he returned with a flash of perfectly straight, white teeth. "Any idea why you almost fainted, Ise-san?" he asked, moving his head so he was in her line of vision.

"No," Nanao replied honestly, "I felt fine until just a moment ago."

The man name Taro frowned thoughtfully, his large eyes lighting with a sudden thought. "Did you eat dinner, Ise-san? My sister almost passed out once from not eating all day."

Nanao shook her head almost guiltily, startled by his lyrical chuckle. "Well, you're in luck because I've got extra." He pressed a hand patronizingly to the top of Nanao's head, when she made to stand up, preventing her from rising. "If you don't mind, I would worry less if you would just stay there for a little while. I'll be right back."

Nanao blinked as she watched this virtual stranger bound away toward the back of the bookstore. He returned a moment later bearing two plates and a new set of chopsticks.

"Here," he said happily, dispensing a large portion of noodles onto her plate before heaping the rest onto his own.

"Oh no, I couldn't eat your dinner," Nanao protested, fighting against the powerfully alluring smell of the noodles.

"Please, I insist," Taro said, nudging the plate in her direction with his blinding smile. "Dinner in exchange for your delightful company."

"Thank you again," Nanao sighed, picking up her chopsticks with resignation. She chewed her noodles pensively, savoring the sweet and spicy flavoring of the sauce. She was trying to decide whether it was her duty as the guest to break the awkward silence between them, when Taro took the dilemma off her hands.

"So, what do you do for a living, Ise-san?" he began, lowering his chopsticks to scoop up another mouthful of noodle.

"I'm the personal assistant for the director of a hospital," she replied, gauging his reaction.

"Is he strict?" Taro asked, curiosity tingeing his tone.

"Somewhat. Why?" Nanao returned, wondering what made him correctly assume her boss' nature.

"The long sleeves in the middle of the summer," Taro said, gesturing to the neat pinstripe blazer Nanao was wearing. She had purchased a few outfits in a secondhand store prior to starting her new job.

"Oh, well that's partly it, I suppose," Nanao admitted, taken aback by his observational skills. "But oftentimes I get cold easily, so I don't mind, really." It was close enough to the truth. Ever since she had lost her reiatsu she was cold almost constantly. "And do you own this place?" Nanao queried politely, eager to take the attention off of her.

"How did you guess?" Taro smiled, flicking a strand of shaggy hair out of his eyes.

"Most store employees aren't allowed to eat near the merchandise," she pointed out. "Nor do most stores keep extra plates on hand."

"Very true," he agreed with a laugh. "But the plates came from my apartment upstairs."

"You live here?" Nanao said surprised. She had not noticed a second floor coming into the building.

"Yes, there are stairs in the back room. There's another set of rooms next to mine. I've been thinking of renting them out since no one uses it."

"For how much?" Nanao said, trying not to look eager.

"Are you in the market?" Taro asked slyly. Nanao was wondering if she was losing her touch at being hard to read.

"As a matter of fact, I am," Nanao said evenly.

"Well, I can't charge too much for it, seeing as it only has a room and a bathroom― there's no kitchen. And the only way to enter it right now is through the back room, the outdoor staircase needs to be repaired…" Taro murmured almost to himself. After a few moments musing he named a price so affordable that Nanao wondered if she had suddenly been blessed by the gods of fortune.

"I can give you the rent at the end of every month and I would like to move in as soon as possible. Is there a contract I need to sign?" Nanao practically demanded.

Taro regarded her with his jade green eyes. "No, you look dependable enough," he teased in his silken voice. He changed subject to literature after a few moments of silently gnawing on now lukewarm noodles.

Nanao found herself irresistibly entangled in the conversation as he began discussing the personal flaws of several characters in Lady Murasaki's Tale of Genji, the first book she had ever read.

Long after the remainder of the noodles had disappeared and a large pot of tea joined the empty plates on their makeshift table, Taro glanced at his watch. He swore swiftly under his breath, glancing up at Nanao, a torn expression marring his features.

"Is something the matter?" Nanao asked politely.

"I'm late for the club," Taro said apologetically, rising from his seat.

"Club?" Nanao said, her eyebrow arching.

"My friend owns a popular nightclub around the corner," Taro explained over his shoulder as he made his way to the back of the store. "He's out of town for a month, fulfilling his life-long dream of climbing a mountain. So, I agreed to look after it for him."

"Oh," Nanao said lamely. She rose to her feet awkwardly as his footsteps faded out of earshot, not quite sure what to do with herself. Remembering her forgotten manual, she retrieved it from the back of the store and loitered by the register, waiting for Taro to return. He emerged from the back room a moment later, buttoning a royal blue oxford. Nanao noticed almost clinically that it complemented his skin tone rather nicely.

"Sorry to have it end like this," he apologized as he turned the sign in the window off.

"It's fine. I should be going anyway," Nanao assured him. She held out the manual, unsure how to ask him to allow her to purchase it.

"Take it," Taro said warmly, pushing the door open and holding it for her.

"But I couldn't," Nanao argued feebly as she stepped toward him, attempting to push into his arms.

"Consider it a home warming present," he said gently, pressing the book into her chest as he backed her slowly out the door. Nanao's face flushed scarlet at the proximity.

"Oh and by the way Nanao-san," he added, slowly sliding the glasses she had not noticed he'd retrieved back onto her nose, "it's a shame to hide eyes like yours behind glasses that you don't really need."

Nanao stumbled backward, almost falling off the curb. Taro merely flashed her that blinding white smile before shoving his hands nonchalantly in his pockets and making his way down the street.

Nanao shivered slightly, but not from the cold. She clutched the book protectively to her chest as she swiftly rounded the corner. She could not shake the feeling of intimacy evoked when Taro had removed her glasses and later replaced them.

It had felt almost like… being undressed and then later dressed by a man after making love. Nanao knew it was ridiculous, but she could not stem the guilty feeling that blossomed in the wake of the memory. Even though nothing at all had happened, she could not help but feel that she had somehow been unfaithful to the man she had left behind in the Seireitei.

Nanao could not know that, even as she wrestled with her feelings of guilt, in the Soul Society Shunsui was wrestling with his own rare feelings of impatience. It was almost time to put his plan into action…

* * *

A/N: And there is chapter eleven, beloved readers. Reviews are considered lucky charms for the belated driver's test I'm taking tomorrow. Pray to any gods you worship for my passing!


	12. Seducing Fate

A/N: I apologize for the delay in updating. College rather does cramp down on writing time. Do not worry, I will finish this story. But please be patient and don't expect scheduled, frequent updates. Know that I am trying my hardest to make the updates as quickly as possible.

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter 12: Seducing Fate**

"Do you see that?" the squat twelfth squad member asked pointing at an infinitesimal blip on the giant display screen. "_That's_ what you're looking for."

"Looks like a dot to me," Matsumoto said skeptically, a hand on her hip. She leaned toward the monitor, her eyes narrowed.

"Enlarge it," Hitsugaya ordered. His own turquoise eyes were narrowed as he stared calculatingly at the screen. The technician pressed a few buttons, and the display zoomed in to focus on the pulsating orange light moving sporadically around the grid.

"Why does it keep blinking like that?" Matsumoto asked, tilting her head to the side.

"We have no idea. I've ever seen anything like it. At first we thought that it was some kind of hollow life form, but it almost appears to be avoiding wandering souls. It moves constantly but stays in general areas for lengths at a time." The technician scratched a temple. "It's a reiatsu alright, but it's the most unusual thing I've ever seen."

"Do you have any records of its movements?" Hitsugaya asked, turning his glare on the technician. Matsumoto stifled a giggle as the man scrambled to grab a file from the chair next to him. She wondered if her Taichō had any idea how intimidating his "business face" could be.

"That's all the data we have on the…organism," the man said, placing the bulging envelope in Hitsugaya's waiting palm.

"Have the arrangements been made?" Hitsugaya asked, passing the folder to Matsumoto without glancing at it.

"As soon as we heard from the Commander-general, sir," the technician confirmed. "You're set to leave at the top of the hour."

"Good," Hitsugaya demanded crisply. "Come, Matsumoto," he barked and turning on his heel, strode out of the room.

- - -

"So what do you think it is?" Matsumoto asked as she closed to door behind her. She followed Hitsugaya closely as he made his way toward his desk.

"I'm not so concerned about what it is, but where it is," Hitsugaya responded as he dropped the file on his desk and sat. He folded his pale hands together and set his chin on top of them, his snowy brows furrowed. "Nothing good ever came out of Karakura."

"That's not true," Matsumoto chided, slinking onto the desk in front of Hitsugaya, forcing him to drop his hands. "Ichigo and his friends came from Karakura. Yoruichi-san and Urahara-san are also there," Matsumoto reminded him.

"That bastard," Hitsugaya cursed at the mention of the shop-keeper. He angled his head to rest against the cool wood of the high-backed chair, "I bet he knows more than he's letting on and is having fun baiting everyone."

"Probably," Matsumoto agreed. "But at least it gives us an opportunity to get out of the office for a little while," she crossed one leg over the other, inwardly delighted as his eyes followed the movement.

"You're just happy that you won't have to do paperwork," Hitsugaya grumbled, staring reproachfully up at her from beneath his dark lashes.

"And, if we're lucky, we might get to miss the next meeting while we're at it," Matsumoto giggled, playfully nudging his shoulder with her foot. He caught her foot in one hand in a motion akin to the jaws of Hyōrinmaru closing around its prey. She gasped audibly in surprise.

"Maybe I should order you to stay. That way we'll be certain not to miss anything important at the meeting," he taunted, with a small smirk.

Matsumoto's expression mirrored his own. "You wouldn't leave me here, you would miss me too much," she said, tilting her chin up in a show of confidence. "Besides, we only have less than an hour until we leave, which is not an appropriate length of time to say goodbye." A tremor shot through her body when his eyes turned dark. His thumb trailed leisurely up the arch of the foot he still held.

"I beg to differ," Hitsugaya said dryly, using her ensnared appendage to pull her closer toward him. His ever observant eyes did not fail to miss how her contented expression crumbled.

"You would really leave me here?" she said, her blue-gray eyes filled with shock and hurt. Hitsugaya let out a small snort of disbelieving laughter that did not do anything to help the situation. Matsumoto blanched visibly, almost as if she was preparing for a physical blow.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and sighed, allowing his head to descend until it rested in the crook of her neck.

"Only for your safety," he admitted petulantly, shaking his head slightly. Matsumoto delighted in the feel of his soft hair on her skin and the relief that rushed through her. She was not going to be left behind again…

"I knew it," she declared gently, her long fingers tracing a line down the tendon of his neck. "You do love me."

"You make that sound like it was in question," Hitsugaya grumbled. "Come on," he sighed, lifting her off of the desk and setting her on the floor, let's go see how Kyōraku did."

- - -

"Shunsui," the wrinkled Commander-General said in his papery voice, "this is an unusual occurrence."

"Yama-ji," Shunsui replied amiably, tilting his hat upward nonchalantly with a finger.

"Well, what is it?" Yamamoto demanded imperiously from behind his desk.

"I happen to have misplaced something very valuable to me," Shunsui said, taking a step closer. "I have come to ask your permission to go and get it back."

"Ah, I assume you are referring to your missing fukutaichō," Yamamoto rumbled, opening one eye slowly to stare into the face he had watched grow with the man in front of him.

"Oh good, you got my report then," Shunsui said with an easygoing smile. "I was worried that I might have forgotten something as Nanao isn't here to check my paperwork." The grin faded a little. "And my Nanao isn't technically missing. I happen to know where she is. Generally speaking," Shunsui added, waving one hand in a noncommittal gesture.

"Generally speaking," Yamamoto repeated, one hand shifting slightly on the gnarled staff he held in a recognized gesture of annoyance. "And her location?" he demanded after a moment.

"She's in the living world," Shunsui returned, rotating his body in order to lean against the rather Spartan desk.

"And how do you know this?" Yamamoto demanded, watching as Shunsui removed his hat and began spinning it absentmindedly in his hands.

Shunsui explained his theory to Yamamoto. It pained him to admit that his Nanao had potentially lost her reiatsu permanently. He kept his voice slow and measured, matching the steady revolution of the straw beneath his fingers.

"You have no verifiable evidence of this, Shunsui. There is no absolute proof that Ise Nanao was indeed the one who entered the Senkai gate that night," the Commander reproached, his fingers moving away from the staff to rest on the desk in front of him.

"Yare, yare," Shunsui heaved a deep sigh. "I knew you were going to say that."

His chin tilted upwards, the earthen eyes seeing something much different than the rooftops of the Seireitei that stretched beyond the weathered rails of the balcony. "No, Yama-ji, I don't have any proof, just a hunch."

"And that has always been enough for you," Yamamoto stated flatly.

He knew better than to expect his student to change his ways now. And yet, it was his constant nature which made him such a valuable leader…

Yamamoto shook his head slightly. He grunted a disgruntled sound that made him sound more like an exasperated guardian than the fearsome leader of the Gotei Thirteen.

"I believe we both know that my permission has no bearing on your decision, Shunsui."

Shunsui bit back a smile. "Not really, no" he shrugged, glancing over his shoulder quickly to read his old master's face. "I figured I would go through the proper steps this time, though. It would be excellent if I still had a job when I bring my Nanao-chan home."

He paused, turning so that he faced the desk, his eyes locked on his commander's face. "I intend to marry her, Yama-ji."

"You are her direct superior. You know that is against regulations," Yamamoto responded, but his tone lacked the permanent icy disapproval which always colored an outright rejection.

Shunsui could not help but let out a signature low chuckle. "I think we established long ago that regulations weren't my thing."

"Ise Nanao could be anywhere, and with no reiatsu to trace, it could be weeks, even years before she is found. I cannot have one of my divisions without any concrete leadership for such an indefinite length of time. You have one week, Shunsui," Yamamoto barked. "Go and prepare anyone you wish to take with you, you leave at the top of the hour." He reached across the desk and dragged a form across its surface. With one scarred hand, he dipped the brush into the ink and filled out the official order for Shunsui's departure.

"Thank you, Yama-ji," Shunsui said sincerely. He rolled the paper up and tucked it carefully into his haori like it was a ticket straight to the world's most priceless treasure.

Shunsui turned on his heel, perching his hat in its customary position once again, and began to hurry in the direction of his division.

"Shunsui," the sound of his name made him pause. He turned around to stare into the Yamamoto's opened eyes, and was surprised to view the hint of remorse in them. "You do know that, even if you both return, I cannot allow a shinigami incapable of combat to continue to serve as fukutaichō."

"I know," Shunsui admitted, his voice ringing in the sound-filled silence of the late spring afternoon, "it's a good thing that it's not her rank I am in love with."

- - -

"Excuse me for interrupting sir, but was that last line of the budget supposed to be the total with or without the extra piece of equipment? Because there appears to be an error either way," Nanao said as she nudged the door open with her shoulder. Her black heels rapped smartly on the floor as she walked, syncopated against the rhythm of the rain smattering against the glass of the large picture window in her boss' office.

Ishida Ryūken stood to one side of the window, his silhouette etched against the gray sky.

"With," he replied shortly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Nanao glanced perfunctorily out the window, her natural curiosity surfacing for just a moment. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary and immediately focused her attention back on the file in her arms.

"Thank you, sir," she continued, making a note on the paper in front of her. "I'll have the reports sent out with―" she broke off, her eyes automatically snapping up to peer through the gray gloom of the afternoon, into the city beyond. Her stance shifted slightly, her feet spreading further apart, her legs bending at the knee, ready to spring.

"So you _can_ sense them," Ryūken said softly, his eyes shielded behind the light reflecting off of his lenses. "I have been wondering that for weeks."

Nanao blushed crimson, straightening her legs quickly. "Sense what, sir?" she stammered hastily, pushing her glasses further up her nose. "Like I was saying sir, I will have the reports sent out within the hour." She turned on one heel so rapidly that she almost lost her balance.

"You are one of them," Ryūken continued without tearing his gaze away from the rain. "You are a shinigami."

Nanao froze. "A what?" she asked, trying to insert just the right amount of confusion and amusement in her tone. "Aren't those just children's stories?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask your superior officer?" Ryūken queried rhetorically, his tone mocking.

Nanao flinched. "Sir, I―"

"I don't want any lies," he interjected. "You can start by telling me what a shinigami is doing here, parading around like a common human secretary. And then you can tell me what it is that you want from me."

He raised a hand to move his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, a gesture which his son often performed, Nanao realized, right before a fight. She caught the innocent flash of silver on his wrist and knew that he was armed.

"My name is Ise Nanao," she began reticently. I am― _was_― the fukutaichō of the Eighth Division," Nanao corrected herself, ignoring the painful catch it caused in her throat. "I fled here after I lost my abilities in battle. And the only thing I want from you is to keep my job."

"I think you had best start from the beginning Ise-san," Ryūken said, lowering himself into the wingtip chair behind his desk. The blood-colored leather juxtaposed against his silver hair and gleaming glasses suddenly gave Nanao the impression that she was being interviewed by the mythical devil. Only she had never imagined the devil to wear a white suit.

"It's rather complicated, sir," Nanao started reticently. "I will try my best to explain but… even I don't have all the answers."

- - -

"So to summarize, you fell in love your superior officer, then ran away when things got difficult, mistakenly believing that you could prevent circumstances from becoming even more difficult for your Taichō even at your own expense." The doctor rested his chin in one pale, sculpted hand. "I see you shinigami still live up to your reputation of thinking illogically."

The corners of Nanao's mouth turned down noticeably. "With all due respect, sir, I doubt you have ever been in a similar situation. What right do you have to judge my actions?"

Ryūken did not answer immediately, his face contorting into a sardonic grin. "I suppose that you are right. I have no room to comment since I too ruined my own chance at happiness." Pain, bright and fresh flashed across his face and yet Nanao knew at once that it was not caused by a new wound but an old one, a scar that would never close completely.

"I suppose that in a way, I committed the same transgression as your Taichō. I fell in love with someone I should not have been with. I did not deserve her. And, even after I took what I should not have, I did not appreciate the gift I had been given and placed work before everything else."

"Are you referring to Uryū-san's mother?" Nanao asked hesitantly. He nodded his head, snapping back to stare at her.

"I don't suppose you realize what you've done?" he demanded sharply.

"I…protected him. For his own good," Nanao stammered, frustrated, moving her bangs out of her eyes.

"You said you were trying to prevent him from choosing between his job and yourself by removing yourself from the situation, but if he is the type of man you implied he was, his choice has already been made. And I think both of us know exactly what he thought was more important."

He ran his hand through his usually immaculate hair in an uncharacteristically agitated gesture. "You will not be able to hide forever, either from him or from the despair you will feel once he gives up."

"I will not be found," Nanao said determinedly. "And I will force myself to wake up everyday," she repeated the words Shunsui had told her that day by the meadow. "Now if you'll excuse me, sir, I'll send those reports out before I…leave."

She stood, beginning to walk to the door. She did not remember it seeming this immense before.

"I will expect you here early tomorrow to go over the materials for tomorrow's board meeting," Ryūken said coolly.

Nanao stopped dead, scarcely daring to believe what she had heard. She had been certain that the Quincy descendant was going to fire her directly after discovering her relationship to the Soul Society. Not willing to push her luck any farther in one day than she thought it was willing to stretch, she merely nodded, trying not to look like she was hurrying out of the room.

Ryūken slowly pivoted his chair to face the rain once more. His usual scowl seemed permanently etched into his frosty skin.

"Damn it all," he swore softly. Pushing himself to his feet, he strode quickly to the door as if he was worried that rationality would catch up to him before he made it to his destination.

It was time he paid an old acquaintance a visit.

- - -

"Nanao-san!" Taro exclaimed, throwing open the door to the bookshop, towel in hand. "Come here, you're dripping all over the place."

He pulled her into the mercifully dry store and began rubbing her hair dry with the towel. "Why didn't you take an umbrella if you were going to walk?" he demanded.

"I don't have one," Nanao admitted, pushing against Taro's chest, attempting to get him to release her. "I can dry myself off, thank you," she said tiredly, wrapping a hand around his wrist as the soft cotton began to caress her face. The assumed familiarity between them made her uncomfortable. Only one other person had ever taken such liberty…

"Nanao-san," Taro said carefully, his blue eyes darting over her exhausted expression. "Will you please tell me why you're here?"

Nanao blinked behind her fogged-over, water-flecked lenses. "I live upstairs," she replied, confused.

Taro chuckled. It was a musical sound that suited his lilting voice. "I mean, why are you living upstairs, all alone, without any real possessions, not even an umbrella to your name. And I want the truth," he added, sliding her glasses off her nose.

Nanao flinched at the action. She hardly knew the man and he constantly insisted upon removing her glasses. The ease of the act unnerved her…

Nanao's muscles clenched as she wracked her brain for a plausible lie.

"I fell in love with my boss," she said swiftly. It was close to the truth, Nanao supposed. "It was against regulations. We had to hide the fact that we were…involved. He…beat me," Nanao declared suddenly, looking Taro in the eye, her face flushing at the boldness of the statement. It appeared that Taro took it to be embarrassment at her confession.

"I… reported him, and was discharged from my job. I don't know how anyone else found out…but the news spread and his reputation suffered. He… threatened revenge, so I ran," Nanao finished, surprised at how quickly her brain had developed such a ridiculous tale. Shunsui raising a hand to her was about as likely as Kuchiki Taichō smiling.

"Why didn't you take anything with you?" Taro said, the music in his voice taking on a minor tone.

"I…lived…with him," Nanao choked out. "So…I couldn't risk taking anything. He would have known."

With surprising speed, Nanao found herself pressed against the faded cotton of his button-up shirt. His hand held her head under his chin. The position was familiar, but it felt incredibly wrong.

It was _all_ wrong. Her nostrils were filled with the smell of new books and something spicy, not sake and incense. The frame that held her was too slight, the shirt she was pressed against was a washed out green. Nanao never thought that she would actually, physically ache for pink.

"Please," Nanao whispered, pushing against his chest, as a feeling akin to claustrophobia arose in her chest.

"You're safe here," Taro assured her avidly, misinterpreting her request.

"No, I―" Nanao protested, applying more force, the pressure of his hold released for a blissful second, but backwards force did not agree with the pool of water that had formed on the hardwood floor. Nanao slid, her feet flying out from underneath her. Taro attempted to catch her, but only ended up falling with her. He gave a grunt of pain when the wood connected with his back as they landed in a tangle of limbs.

"Are you alright?" he asked after a moment. Nanao grimaced. He looked like he was in pain. She didn't quite know how he had managed to take the brunt of the impact.

"I'm fine," Nanao said as she began to extricate her legs from his.

But that changed quickly as his hand gripped her hip suddenly, the surprising strength in it, momentarily preventing her from moving.

"Nanao," he said quietly. She could not help but notice the missing honorific. His face was close, too close to unguarded eyes. And he was pulling gently, ever so gently to move her closer.

What Nanao couldn't figure out was why she wasn't resisting.

- - -

"So this is what it looks like," Okuni observed, brushing the tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her vision as she squinted out over the winking lights of the expansive city. "It's so…big," she finished lamely.

"You should see the stores," Matsumoto practically squealed, ignoring the frosty glare of her Taichō in the dim lamps illuminating the hill.

"We're not here to shop, Rangiku," Hitsugaya barked. "We have a job to do."

"Why do you have to be a killjoy, Toshirō?" she pouted. "We'll find the mysterious reiatsu tomorrow, Nanao the day after that, and if we _happen_ to forget to tell the technology department that we've achieved all of our objectives, that gives us an extra four days of vacation."

"I'm so glad you're not underestimating the difficulty of our mission," Hitsugaya deadpanned.

"Excuse me for being optimistic," she said testily, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "These things have to work out because they're supposed to," Matsumoto explained airily. "Shunsui must find Nanao because it's fated to be. Isn't that right, Kyōraku-san?" she demanded, turning to look at her old friend.

Shunsui did not answer. His eyes were surveying the sprawl of lights which seemed to swirl in front of him, mocking and inviting all at the same time.

She could be _anywhere_ down there…and if she had left the city…

"Matsumoto's right, Taichō," Okuni said softly, drawing his attention away from the city. "You'll find her," she proclaimed, her large eyes staring determinedly into his, "you will find her because you're _meant_ to and, even if you're not, I never much believed in fate and destiny anyway."

He smiled down at her. Her determination suddenly seemed to fan his own back into life. "You're right of course, Okuni-san," he replied gently.

"Come friends," Shunsui declared, "it is time for us to go and seduce fate."

_And_, Shunsui thought, _I have never yet failed to seduce a woman eventually._

And fate _had_ to be easier than his Nanao-chan.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are better than food. Help curb my cravings and stick to my diet.


	13. Demons in Disguise

A/N: Well I'm home for Christmas break. Five full weeks of freedom! And of course that means plenty of updates (hopefully). My goal is to finish this story before the end of break. But I'm getting to the part that I've been waiting for so it shouldn't be too painful. Thanks for sticking with me everyone, you're the best!

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter 13: Demons in Disguise **

Nanao's heart pounded painfully against her ribs like a small animal throwing itself against the bars of a cage, frantically trying to escape. Despite her utter panic and disgust, Nanao's neck continued to obey the pressure being applied gently to it, guiding her face nearer to Taro's with every passing millisecond.

When her heart gave a particularly rebellious leap, Nanao's reflexes kicked in and she did what she had always done when receiving an unwanted advance.

She slapped him.

The sound of her palm making contact with Taro's pale skin seemed to reverberate around the small bookstore, as shocking as the sudden rumble of thunder outside the windows. Gasping, Nanao tore herself out of the suddenly limp circle of his arms, scuttling across the floor to what she deemed was a safe distance away.

Taro propped himself up on his elbows, staring at Nanao as if she was a usually loving pet cat who had suddenly lashed out for no apparent reason. "Nanao?" he asked, hesitantly. Nanao wondered if she should feel guiltier than she did as she stared at the glaring red mark emblazoned on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, pushing herself into a more dignified position. She motioned as if she was going to adjust her glasses before realizing that they weren't there.

"It's alright," Taro said, pushing himself to his feet. "I shouldn't have done that after…what you just told me." He groaned, frustrated, and brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "I'm so _stupid_!"

"It's alright," Nanao reassured him quietly. She got to her feet gingerly and retrieved her glasses from where they had clattered to the floor, miraculously safe. She slid the frames onto her nose with an inward sigh of blissful relief. She felt for the first time since she had returned to the store that she was in control of the situation.

"No, it's _not_ alright," Taro said. He gestured as if he meant to come near her again but shoved his hands in his pockets to suppress the impulse. "It won't happen again," he vowed, his green eyes radiating sincerity. "Until you're ready for it," he amended quietly.

_Which will be never,_ Nanao thought sadly. "I'm going to go and clean myself up," she said stiffly, fleeing through the back room to the safety of her Spartan quarters.

Nanao bit her lip thoughtfully, gathering the necessities for a bath. She inhaled the moist air as she watched the outdated porcelain tub fill with steaming water.

She wished more than anything in this moment that the day _could _come when she would be able to accept Taro's obvious and completely inexplicable attraction. She clasped her hands around herself as her chest lurched miserably, almost as if she was attempting to keep her heart within the confines of her body.

But her efforts to hold it to her were in vain, Nanao knew. Her heart was already far away…and likely to remain there.

- - -

"Taichō!" Matsumoto breathed heavily, her hand falling onto Hitsugaya's shoulder. "Can't we take a break? We've been chasing that thing all morning."

Hitsugaya fairly growled but nodded his head in acquiescence, plopping himself on the low wall which ringed in the park they were currently on the outskirts of. He snapped his cell phone shut angrily, swearing at the sensor screen as he did so.

The dot had been flicking around all morning between one end of the city and the other. Yet, it always seemed to return to the hospital near the center of the city, across from where they were now.

It would be much easier to follow, Hitsugaya mused angrily, if the reiatsu didn't continue to constantly pulse slowly like some sort of odd heartbeat. The moment they got close to it, it would fade and reappear some blocks down a few seconds later. He and Matsumoto had spent most of the morning an infuriating flash-step behind it.

Matsumoto leaned her head on his shoulder, her red-gold hair spilling across his white coat. And, because he knew no one could see them, Hitsugaya allowed himself to rest his head gently on top of hers, enjoying the feel of her hair on his cheek, smooth as fine-spun silk.

"Why can't we just stay like this for the rest of the day?" Matsumoto murmured softly.

"Because the sooner we find what this is, the sooner we can help Kyōraku," Hitsugaya responded.

"Why can't it just stay still Toshirō?" Matsumoto said, twining her fingers around his. "Doesn't it know the value of a good nap?"

Hitsugaya merely snorted in response, flipping the phone open in agitation as is began to emit high-pitched beeps once more.

"I just wish I knew why it kept going over to that hospital!" Hitsugaya burst out angrily. He glared at the phone as if it might answer him. "If it was going to devour souls for easy prey it would have done it already."

Matsumoto picked her head up off of his shoulders, staring in the direction that the phone was pointing. There was something vaguely familiar about the shiny glass and stone building, as if she had been there before.

Matsumoto gripped Hitsugaya's arm as the realization rippled through her. She _had_ seen that building before, walked by it once when living with Orihime. The girl had pointed to the side of the building and giggled. _"That's the hospital run by Ishida-kun's father but I think with the windows placed the way they are, it reminds me more of Ishida-kun!" _

Hitsugaya turned to look at her, his eyes filled with alarm. Matsumoto opened her mouth up to explain but Hitsugaya was no longer paying attention, all senses on alert. His eyes were scanning the street across from them where a new reiatsu pulsed quietly.

"What is this…" Hitsugaya mumbled, his hand reaching back to grab the hilt of Hyōrinmaru. Matsumoto clutched at his arm.

"Look!" she pointed across the street to where and impressive black town car was rolling up to the curb. An aging chauffeur exited the vehicle and walked stiffly around to open the backseat door.

A straight-backed figure stepped onto the sidewalk. His flashing spectacles, quietly authoritative posture, and white double-breasted suit automatically associated him in Matsumoto's mind as Ishida's ex-Quincy father.

"What the hell?" Hitsugaya exclaimed as the silver-haired man turned, extending his hand. The hand was apparently accepted as a slim woman with shoulder-length black hair emerged tentatively in front of him, carrying a thin leather-bound itinerary. The monitor on Hitsugaya's cell phone screamed in his hand.

- - -

"You should tell him, Kisuke," Yoruichi stated, staring over his shoulder as Urahara continued to type away at the odd-looking keyboard sitting on his lap.

"It's just a theory," Urahara returned flippantly, continuing to stare at the screen, analyzing the data he had gathered from Nanao unwittingly while she had slept.

"I meant that you know she's in the city," Yoruichi said, rolling her golden eyes. Said eyes narrowed suddenly as what Urahara had said sank in. "What were _you_ talking about?"

"Nothing at all," Urahara said, waving his hand dismissively but the motion only served to draw Yoruichi's eyes to the inflated screen in front of them.

A slim eyebrow arced upwards. "Well, that certainly complicates things," she practically purred.

- - -

Nanao made her way back to the bookshop with a headache. She had left the hospital early enough that she had made her way over to the Kurosaki clinic in order to continue her filing project. Isshin still paid her generously, and any extra little bit of money was one more step toward leaving her past behind. The agony ripped through her heart at the thought. She found it was suddenly more difficult than usual to pull open the door which led to Taro.

Things had been awkward since last afternoon. She still didn't feel that her apology had been enough. Taro had been overly kind since she had slapped him, not that it was undeserving. He was almost as incorrigible as…_Shunsui. _Nanao sighed. Even though she knew it was going to be difficult to forget a person that she had known for centuries over the course of mere weeks, Nanao did think that the process ought to hurry up.

Nanao's forehead wrinkled as she opened the door of the shop to find Taro, sitting on his desk eating his customary noodles in a white paper take-out container. He smiled brightly when she paused to take in his appearance. His pale features lit up, almost as if he had been waiting for her.

He looked…_handsome_, Nanao thought, there was no other word for it. He had gotten his hair cut. The tousled strands just skimmed his brow line, drawing more attention to his flashing bottle green eyes. The dark jade button-up he wore only seemed to accent the rather unsettling hint of mischief on his face.

"Are you going out tonight?" Nanao asked, shaking her head as he silently offered her the container of noodles. Yuzu had forced her to eat some leftovers earlier when she was finished filing.

"So are you," Taro responded. He raised an eyebrow when Nanao pressed a finger to her temple as her head gave a particularly nasty throb.

"Pardon me?" Nanao asked, shaking her head in confusion. "I don't remember us making any plans."

"We didn't," Taro responded, leaning over the desk to chuck his empty noodle container in the trashcan behind it. "You've been working to hard, Nanao. It's time to go out and have a little fun. But you can't go out like that."

Nanao stared at him, speechless. He hopped off of the desk, making his way over to her, his hands shoved nonchalantly in his pockets. Taro reached up and removed her tidy blazer, so she was left in the lace-edged camisole that she had worn under it. Nanao shivered in the sudden absence of a layer of heat. Taro smiled down at her, ruffling her hair slightly.

"That's better," he said smugly, grabbing the keys to the shop and slipping them in his pocket. "Come on," he tugged Nanao toward the door. She grimaced, her headache was increasing by the moment.

Nanao shivered as the early summer breeze brushed across her bare shoulders. "What are you doing?" Nanao demanded as Taro locked up the shop.

"Closing the shop up for the night," Taro grinned, tossing the keys up into the air and catching them midflight.

"Stick with me and I'll show you how to have a good time," Taro declared, wrapping an arm around her. Nanao let him, but only because he gave off body heat. The constant feeling of cold that had plagued her since she had run away from Soul Society suddenly seemed more noticeable in the absence of her jacket.

"Where exactly are you taking me?" Nanao said, glaring up at Taro in the yellow light of a streetlamp.

"To the club," he responded. Nanao stared at him incredulously. Sometimes she wondered if he was a demon that fate had summoned just to torment her. First he attempted to kiss her and now this…

Still, Nanao wondered why no one ever told her that demons wore button-up shirts when they were going out for a night on the town…

- - -

Ishida Ryūken took a steadying breath, staring up at the sign on the side of the house proclaiming it to be the Kurosaki Clinic. The sole lamp that illuminated the sign for those trying to find it at night was flickering systematically, making Ryūken's eye twitch. Honestly, couldn't the man get a ladder and replace his own light bulb?

His hand faltered by the bell. It was late and he didn't want to wake up Kurosaki's teenage daughters. He had meant to come by numerous times this week but hadn't been able to lower his pride enough to do so. The last time he had purposefully sought out the elder Kurosaki it had been for the sake of his son. Ryūken didn't quite understand why this girl, who should have meant little to him, was causing him to do such a thing again.

His scowl deepened as the clinic door swung open revealing the man he had come to see. "How long were you planning on standing out there?" Kurosaki Isshin asked, leaning expectantly on the doorjamb.

"I didn't want to wake your daughters this late at night," Ryūken replied stiffly. "Unlike you, I do have manners."

"That's debatable. You woke _me_ up," Isshin replied raising an eyebrow. "The reiatsu you're emitting could probably wake the entire Seireitei from here. Get in," he added, holding open the door.

"You were sleeping in your clothes?" Ryūken asked skeptically, stopping stiffly inside the foyer.

"I fell asleep on the couch. It's difficult to relax with all these strange reiatsus running around town." Isshin made a noncommittal gesture with his hand. "Sit down," he said, indicating the few chairs that were stationed in the small antechamber to the clinic.

Ryūken sat, glancing around. He noted the homey atmosphere of the clinic which contrasted sharply with the pristine aura of stringent sanitation and illness that loomed over his own health care center.

"Cigarette?" Isshin offered, holding out a pack toward Ryūken.

"You can't smoke in a clinic," he said matter-of-factly. Isshin merely smiled.

"I can. Because I own it," he smirked.

"I thought you only smoked once a year," Ryūken said, falling back into the easy banter they had had in the past, during the time they had associated with each other frequently. Before everything changed.

"I used to, but I started taking it up again when my boy started that string of to-the-death battle campaigns. I'm lucky he didn't drive me to drink." Isshin shook his head, a combination of exasperation and fatherly pride.

"You did that anyway," Ryūken responded dryly. "I never did, until my son decided it was necessary to accompany yours on these life-saving crusades." He paused a moment before he reached over and selected a cigarette. Isshin lit it for him with a smile.

"You're still a crappy father," Isshin remarked, and Ryūken cracked a wry, acknowledging smile.

"In some ways, you are too," Ryūken returned smoothly, suavely blew out a stream of smoke.

"What are you doing here?" Isshin finally came to the point, tilting his head as he regarded his friend and rival.

Ryūken slowly exhaled more smoke. "What do you know about Ise Nanao?" he asked finally, turning his head slowly toward Isshin.

"I always knew you had a heart hidden somewhere," Isshin said jovially, throwing his legs over the arm of the chair he was sitting on.

"Well?" Ryūken prodded testily.

Isshin shrugged, his features turning contemplative. "I know she's a shinigami. That was obvious. She was already in a division when I left. She was very young, but incredibly intelligent. I assume she knows Ichigo in some capacity, or at least Rukia, as they were the ones who recommended her to help me with filing." He scratched the whiskers on his chin. "Why do you care?"

"Because I want to prevent her from committing the same mistakes I did," Ryūken responded after a moment of silence. "Someone's looking for her. And, even though she's determined to think the opposite, she wants to be found."

"What did she tell you?" Isshin asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.

Ryūken removed his glasses, cleaning them meticulously with the cloth kept in his suit jacket for that purpose. As he did so, he began to speak, telling Isshin the tale that Nanao had told him the other day in his office.

"You said she was in the Eighth Division?" Isshin asked. "So she must be Shunsui's girl..." He swore softly, taking an appreciative drag. "I knew there was more to her than meet's the eye."

Both men allowed themselves a fleeting, imaginative glimpse of Nanao's trim figure, outlined in her tidy second-hand business suits. With her toned legs exhibited to their best by her black high heels and her blue-violet eyes sparkling behind her black-rimmed spectacles, she was a gift to every man who ever dreamed of taming the strict librarian.

"I have some people I can talk to," Isshin said as Ryūken got to his feet. The former Quincy had said his piece, and lacked the resources to do anything else. He could of course talk to his son, but he refused to step into a role anymore hypocritical than the one he had already played.

"Thank you," Ryūken murmured as Isshin saw him to the door. He dropped his cigarette butt onto the pavement, crushing it to death under one polished loafer.

"Don't worry," Isshin said, clapping Ryūken on the shoulder. "I'll see what I can do about Nanao."

"And what exactly is that?" A silken voice demanded from the shadows.

Isshin swore, as two figures materialized out of the darkness, illuminated by the light of the bow Ryūken had suddenly drawn. One was unknown to him, shorter than the other, with spiked hair. But the other…the other was unmistakable. No matter how many years went by, no man would _ever_ forget that figure.

"Matsumoto?"

* * *

A/N: Give me something to ogle on the nifty new stats page and review the chapter that took me forever to write. Those of you who take the time are seriously awesome.


	14. Revelations and Pink Sparkles

A/N: A belated Merry Christmas (or other Holidays you may celebrate) and a Happy New Year! Here's my gift to you, my readers. Chapter Fourteen. Enjoy.

* * *

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter 14: Revelations and Pink Sparkles**

Matsumoto blinked as if she thought her eyesight might suddenly be going. "Isshin-san?" she said, her voice colored with disbelief. "Is that you?" she added, holding up a hand to shield her eyes from the light of Ryūken's bow.

"It _is_ you!" she squealed. Matsumoto rushed forward, accidentally knocking Ryūken out of the way in her haste to bury Isshin in one of her infamous hugs.

"What are you doing here, Ran-san?" the former soul-reaper said. His muffled words were hardly distinguishable as his face was buried in Matsumoto's cleavage. Not that Isshin seemed to mind his predicament at all.

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya snapped. "The man needs to breathe." He dropped his hand from the hilt of his sword, crossing his arms across his chest. Hitsugaya rolled his turquoise eyes skyward. It was clear that the man fighting for breath was an acquaintance of Matsumoto's and, at the current moment, Hitsugaya could sense no real danger from either of the strangers.

"Are you jealous Taichō?" Matsumoto teased as she released a red-faced Isshin.

"No," Hitsugaya responded truthfully. Matsumoto had always hugged people by burying them face first in her generous bosom. It was a part of who she was. In fact, Hitsugaya might question her health if she started doing it any other way. And, while Matsumoto's breasts were _quite_ impressive, he was content with the knowledge that her mile-long legs were his. Only his. The object of his thoughts sent him a secretive smile, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Hitsugaya turned his attention to Isshin who was gazing at him curiously. "Taichō?" the doctor drawled, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Tenth Division Taichō, Hitsugaya Toshirō," the white-haired captain said icily. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Isshin Kurosaki," Isshin replied. "And the uptight guy with the bow is Ishida Ryūken. You can put that down now," he added to the ex-Quincy. "So, _this_ is who they got to fill the tenth division spot, huh?" Isshin said, surveying a tense Hitsugaya.

"Yep," Matsumoto replied cheerily. "He's a workaholic, can be a real grouch sometimes, and I'm completely in love with him," she stated proudly. "Isn't he cute?"

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya said warningly. He still wasn't quite used to their relationship being on display, especially for almost complete strangers. Well, strangers to him anyway.

"Sorry, Taichō," Matsumoto said, drawing herself out from under Isshin's arm.

"We have some questions to ask you regarding the strange reiatsu activity that's been happening all over Karakura," Hitsugaya asked, formally.

"Well, that's the official line anyway," Matsumoto said, waving an arm gracefully to dismiss the notion. "What we really care the most about is finding Nanao."

Ryūken adjusted his glasses before speaking for the first time. "If you find her, you won't have to ask anymore questions."

- - -

Nanao gaped in horror as Taro led her into the downtown area. The streets were flooded with people heading into different bars and clubs. The metal and glass doors were thrown open in order to entice the cool spring breeze in. In return, they allowed for the varied, pulsing rhythms to spill out onto the neon-washed streets.

The groups of people that were drifting from one open door to the next were sporting a range of outlandish hairstyles and suggestive clothing. Nanao noticed a rather large crowd of laughing young adults in masks heading in the same direction Taro was steering her.

"Where are _they_ going?" Nanao asked, cringing as one man swatted a leather-clad female on the butt.

"Looks like the same place we are," Taro said with a grin. He tugged Nanao tighter to his side as if sensing was about to flee. They rounded the corner of the block and emerged onto a side street that was illuminated by the soft light of a single neon word.

"Masquerade," Taro announced. They neared the throng of mask-clad individuals who were flipping around their dyed hair and fake ID cards, vying for a spot in what appeared to be the most popular club in the city.

"Is this the place your friend owns?" Nanao said skeptically, subtly attempting to dig her heels into the pavement in an attempt to make herself harder to move.

"Yes, it is," Taro replied, pulling her elbow slightly. He pulled her along after him, past the velvet security rope that was guarded by a man whose size would rival Zaraki Kenpachi. Nanao stared as Taro tugged her reluctantly through the door. Her head began turning of its own volition, amazed at the spectacle and…raw sensuality of it all.

Nanao did not frequent the bars in the Seireitei. She had never ventured into the jungles of the Rukongai with her comrades-in-arms in order to see the more traditional version of the modern day club she was currently standing in. It was mind-boggling. The inside of the building seemed to be almost entirely constructed out of glass. Everything was transparent, except for the identity of the guests, whose faces were all somewhat hidden behind masks. Customers who didn't bring their own were given one at the door by the smiling wait staff, the members of which were wearing smaller, simpler masks. The masks highlighted their features and matched their strange conglomeration of provocative costumes.

Music pulsed out of speakers all over the club, loud and seductive. Denizens of the hotspot were dancing, rolling their hips and pressing up against each other as if in an attempt to release some stress by letting it flow into another. Smoke wafted in mysterious tendrils throughout the entire establishment, adding to the air of fantasy and illusion created by the masks.

"It's fun, isn't it?" Taro asked, guiding her through the throng of people to what seemed to be the main bar in the middle of the club. He greeted the masked bartender. Nanao noticed uncomfortably that she and Taro were the only people in the club not wearing masks.

"Who's this?" the bartender asked, glancing appreciatively at Nanao as Taro ushered her onto one of the only available stools.

"Hotaka, this is Ise Nanao," Taro said brightly, introducing her. "She gets whatever she wants on the house, all night. Got it?"

The bartender nodded with a wink. "You think the boss will appreciate that?"

"What the boss don't know, can't hurt him," Taro replied with an assured smirk. "Anything interesting going on tonight?" he asked. Hotaka shook his blonde-streaked head.

"Katsumi called in sick tonight. We called out to see if someone could substitute for her, but no one's responded. It doesn't look like it'll be too much of a problem, unless we get unusually busy later."

Hotaka slid two glowing blue drinks across the bar. "Now why don't you down this and ask the lovely Ise-san to dance. I'll pretend that I didn't suggest my higher-up blow off his duty."

"I like the way you think," Taro grinned. He lifted his drink and tapped it against Nanao's. She sipped the drink perfunctorily and grimaced, wondering what kind of alcohol the masked employee had slipped into her drink. Taro laughed. He seemed utterly delighted to have Nanao out with him.

"You don't drink much, do you, Nanao-chan?" he teased. Nanao blanched as her old nickname fell so easily from Taro lips. The glowing blue light of her drink suddenly seemed like a beacon that lit the way to forgetfulness.

"_Don't_ call me Nanao-chan," Nanao snarled, downing the glass.

"Or what?" Taro said, leaning closer and raising an eyebrow expectantly. Nanao stared straight into his jade green eyes without flinching.

"You might end up dead. Just like the last man who called me that without my permission." Taro set his glass down on the bar, eyeing her uneasily for a moment before chuckling.

"Alright, I won't call you that then," he said softly, "but only if you dance with me."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her out onto the floor, where what seemed like hundreds of people were all pressed together, their bodies gyrating to the music emanating from the vibrating speakers. Taro pulled her close, _much_ too close and began dancing with her in a way no one had ever done before.

"Relax," he shouted in her ear above the noise.

Nanao could do anything but relax as Taro attempted to get her hips to sway with his. She would only have given in to something like this if she had been with one person…the only person who had ever made her feel comfortable indulging the wild side she kept tucked under many layers of strict discipline and decorum. Nanao had just begun praying for a miracle when a rather tall woman, wearing a magenta mask that matched the fairy wings sprouting from her back, latched onto Taro.

"Taro-kun, we have a major problem," she yelled, tugging at him insistently to follow her. "Yuka tripped over a customer's foot and fell into the bar. She's going to need stitches. Now we're two girls short, there's no one taking care of the left-hand tables," she explained as they wended their way toward the back of the club where three harried-looking waitresses were running drinks from the bar toward the tables of what looked like more affluent customers.

Taro swore. "Where are we going to find someone to cover?" he demanded, shoving his hands in his pockets. Nanao wondered how serious it must be to make his unusually smooth brow furrow like that.

"I could help," Nanao suggested timidly and immediately wished she hadn't as the fairy woman began to eye her as if she was a piece of meat.

- - -

"You can't give up, Kyōraku Taichō," Okuni stated, patting her despondent Taichō on the back consolingly. It was the end of another long day of scouring the city for any sign Nanao with absolutely no results.

There had been strange peaks of reiatsu from one side of town throughout the day, but Shunsui and Okuni had paid little attention to them. They had their hands full searching for someone with absolutely no reiatsu to speak of. With every passing day, the task of locating Nanao seemed to grow more and more impossible. Yamamoto had only given them one week. Now, three days into that week, they had had no sign whatsoever of her whereabouts, and the pair was starting to give up hope.

Shunsui shook his head before laying it dismally onto of his forearms. "Maybe my Nanao really doesn't want to be found this time," he murmured. "Maybe this is the one chase I'm destined to lose."

"That's ridiculous, Taichō," Okuni said emphatically. "Nanao stays one step ahead for a while but in the end you always catch her. That's the way it works!" she stated, pounding her fist on the table they were sitting at for emphasis.

"_Exactly_," Matsumoto chorused as she threw back the shoji screen which separated the dining room from the rest of the Urahara Shoten. "And it's going to work the same way this time," she declared brightly, flipping her golden hair over her shoulder and placing a hand on her hip. "Ask me how I know," she commanded.

"Just ask her," Hitsugaya grumbled as he came through the door behind her and slid easily into a seated position. He grabbed the previously ignored teapot and poured himself a cup of tea.

"How do you know?" Shunsui asked glumly, his eyes trailing to look at her without moving his head.

"I know," Matsumoto said, sliding down to her knees across from him so that they were at eye level, "because I also know where she is."

A moment of silence followed this pronouncement. It was broken by Okuni slamming both hands onto the table, almost causing the teapot to overturn. It would have had Hitsugaya not caught it with his quick reflexes. "_What_?" she shrieked.

"I know where Nanao is. We know where to find her," Matsumoto said, dancing around the table in order to bury Shunsui's head in her formidable cleavage. "We've found her!" Matsumoto repeated ignoring Shunsui's muffled cries of protest and Okuni's hasty inquires.

"Rangiku," Hitsugaya said levelly as he protected the teapot from Okuni's repeated drumming on the table in indignation, "I think Kyōraku is trying to talk to you."

Matsumoto released Shunsui, whose head shot up. His hands gripped Matsumoto's face as if it was the key to all of the worlds most illusive secrets. "Tell me, Ran-san," he demanded. "Tell me where I can find my Nanao-chan."

- - -

Nanao straightened her spine as she stared in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door in the employee changing room. She could not believe that she had put herself up for this. It was almost worth it to be out of the stifling clasp of Taro's too intimate embrace, she mused. But revealing her body like this in public was a little too much.

She was wearing a… Greek toga. _A pathetic excuse for one_, Nanao thought acidly.

The asymmetrical garment came down to mid-thigh, exposing much more leg than she had ever been comfortable with. She didn't even bare this much skin at home, as she knew that Shunsui took great pleasure in 'unwrapping' her. Not to mention that the glittery garment came in a color most unaccommodating to her current goal of forgetting her former captain altogether…_pink_.

"You look like Aphrodite," Taro complimented as he entered the room, his eyes roving over her in a way that made Nanao ache for her uniform.

"I can't go out like this," Nanao practically squeaked, her eyes imploring.

"It's alright if you're not comfortable," he said quickly, his tone reassuring. "We'll manage somehow."

"No," Nanao sighed. She was a woman of her word. She just wished that she could have been given one of the more conservative costumes inspired by another country. "It's just so _short_," she explained.

"Here, perhaps this will make you feel more comfortable," Taro said gently. He slid her glasses from her nose and replaced them with the shimmering pink mask that accompanied the costume. "No one will ever find out who you are."

She had to admit that the mask did make her feel a little better. _Nanao_ was not used to short skirts, pink sparkles, and ridiculous costumes. Yet, behind the mask, she didn't have to be Nanao, she could just be another girl at the club. She could pretend that she was a normal waitress trying to raise the money to buy some furniture and pay her bills, not a powerless soul reaper who was still desperately trying to run away from her former life.

Nanao finally understood the reason why Masquerade was such a popular destination. Everyone wanted to forget something.

"If it makes you feel any better, you'll be receiving double the usual wage for helping out in a pinch," Taro stated. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Nanao nodded. The offer of the money was too hard to refuse. She had a life to build and funds were required to do so. She squared her shoulders, like she was marching out to the gallows instead of into a bustling nightclub, and made to leave the room.

Taro stopped her by gripping her arm suddenly. "I know this may sound ridiculous to you," he said fondly, "but please don't make anyone else fall in love with you, Aphrodite."

Nanao jerked herself away from him and moved toward the bar, too afraid of the implication of his words to ponder the statement further.

- - -

"So where is she now?" Okuni asked, biting into a piece of chocolate that she had stolen from the racks of Urahara's store in celebration of Matsumoto's news. Now that they knew that the flashing dot was Nanao, it was only a matter of tracking her movements and finding the appropriate moment to sweep in and pick her up. Okuni absentmindedly brushed her free hand through the strands of her long ponytail.

"It's hard to get a read on her location," Hitsugaya said, his eye twitching in time to the flashing dot on the screen of the cell phone he held in his hand.

"Allow me," Urahara said as he emerged from the shadows. His eyes, dark under his hat brim seemed to glow white in the semi-darkness of the room. The group shifted to allow the former captain space at the table. "Nanao is in Masquerade," he informed the group.

"Bless you," Okuni said promptly, thinking the strange man had sneezed.

"It's a nightclub," Urahara said, rolling his eyes behind his ever-present fan. He blinked when Shunsui and Matsumoto burst out into laughter. He closed the fan in irritation.

"Nanao would never willingly go to a nightclub," Okuni explained her Taichō's bizarre outburst.

"It is out of character," Hitsugaya added. His brow furrowed as his eyes scanned the screen of his sensor.

"Yet, so was her impractical and illogical decision to run away in the first place. Or so you've said," Urahara added, his voice was mysterious and held a hint of excitement that boggled the white-haired Taichō.

"How long have you known that the reiatsu we were following was Nanao?" Hitsugaya demanded. His cold teal eyes were narrowed at Urahara in accusation. Shunsui's chuckles at the thought of Nanao in a nightclub ceased at the implication in Hitsugaya's words.

"Since right after you got here," Urahara admitted, his tone level and serious.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Shunsui said, the lowering of his voice contrasting sharply with the spike in his reiatsu.

"Because I was running tests to make sure that my theory was correct," Urahara stated calmly in the face of the other man's anger. "I did not want to come to you unless I was certain. But you seemed to have figured out that particular piece of the puzzle without my help." He smiled cryptically.

"So, there's more that you know," Shunsui said. It was not a question but a statement.

"Yes," Urahara confessed with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "I am almost certain that I know what is wrong with Nanao but I've certainly never dealt with anything like it."

"And what exactly are we dealing with?" Okuni asked, her large brown eyes were fixed on Urahara's face, hope radiating out of them. If he knew what was wrong with Nanao's reiatsu, was it possible that he could fix the problem?

"All you need to know is that, _if_ I am right," Urahara warned, the whites of his eyes gleaming, "you had best get Nanao back here to me."

"Or?" Hitsugaya interjected. He let the question hang in the air, hoping to get the strange shopkeeper to divulge more of what he knew.

"Or interesting will be a very mild way to describe what might happen," Urahara finished. "If I were you, I would start thinking of a plan. Goodnight." And, with an airy wave of his fan, he left the small group of friends, staring at his retreating back.

* * *

A/N: Give the author a Holiday gift and review. It might inspire me to start working on the last couple of chapters. I'm pretty sure the part you've all been waiting for is slated for the next chapter…


	15. Strange Distractions and Typical Reactio

A/N: Hello readers! Hope you're having a great New Year so far. If you're not, maybe this will help. It's a brand new chapter. We're getting really, really close to the finish line. Hope you're enjoying the ride while it lasts…things are about to get…strange.

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**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter 15: Strange Distractions and Typical Reactions**

Nanao turned around swiftly, almost dropping the reports she held in her hands. She stared, eyes narrowed in the direction the reiatsu flash had come from.

"Is something the matter, Ise-san?" Ryūken asked. One silver eyebrow was cocked over his questioning eyes. "You seem to be looking out the window quite frequently this morning."

"Did you just…feel anything special, sir?" Nanao asked cautiously, sliding the folder onto the desk in front of him. She studied his perfectly neutral face. It betrayed no indication that he had sensed what she had. Nanao would not have even mentioned it at all, except the same thing not been happening all morning.

"No, I felt nothing out of the ordinary," Ryūken said, glancing at her over the rims of his spectacles. He pushed them up his nose with one finger. "Is there a reason you should be looking over your shoulder?" he queried, his gaze falling to the papers in front of him.

"No…No, sir," Nanao said before turning on her heel and striding quickly out of the office.

_Maybe I'm going insane_, Nanao thought restlessly as she pushed the door open. _Isn't paranoia a preliminary sign of dementia? _

She sighed as she sat down at her desk. Maybe it was fitting, she decided. _I always did say Shunsui would drive me insane._

- - -

Outside, Okuni was balanced precariously on the top of a telephone pole. The Eighth Division third seat twiddled a dial on the pair of binoculars she had pressed against her eyes and winced as she saw Nanao's reaction at her latest slip in control.

_Whoops_. She had to be more careful or this stakeout was going to be a complete and utter failure. Nanao would get the heads up and start running again before they were prepared to catch her.

"Damn, this is boring," she commented to herself. She watched Nanao stride back into the elder Ishida's office with more paperwork.

"Just think of how exciting it'll be when we get to go pick her up," Matsumoto's voice answered her.

Okuni jumped in surprise, she had forgotten that she was wearing an earpiece. She righted herself quickly before she became a shinigami pancake on the street below Ryūken's office window.

"I can hardly wait," Okuni responded, running a hand absentmindedly through her tangled ponytail.

"I wouldn't be able to either, if I were you," Matsumoto gloated on the other line. "You should see what you're wearing!"

Okuni laughed as she heard Hitsugaya's low grumble sound in her ear. "What all are you buying, Ran-san?"

"Let's just say that we're going to look fabulous no matter what the occasion calls for," the fukutaichō answered with a delighted giggle.

- - -

The bell on the door of the shop laughed merrily when Nanao pushed through it at eight o'clock that night. She sat down in the chair across from Taro's desk, gratefully accepting the plate of noodles he pushed towards her. She was unbelievably hungry despite the bagel that she had nursed throughout the tedious board meeting that afternoon.

She flashed Taro a small smile and he winked at her in return, continuing the conversation with a mysterious person on the other end of his cell phone.

"Until _next_ Wednesday?" he said loudly. "Are you _kidding_, Hotaka? Her concussion is that bad?"

Nanao assumed that he was referring to the waitress who had tripped into the bar the night before. The woman had said she'd need stitches. Did Taro honestly think she was going to walk away from blunt force head trauma unscathed? Nanao wondered as she swallowed another mouthful of noodles.

"Where am I going to find someone to help on a Saturday night?" he rubbed his hand over his face as if that would make the problem disappear. "No, I am _not_ going to ask her," Taro burst out suddenly. "She was just helping me out of a jam. You have no right to assume that―"

"I'll help," Nanao interrupted his rant quietly. She almost couldn't believe the words out of her mouth, but it was hard to resist the temptation of the wages she had already calculated in her head. "As long as I get to wear something longer this time," Nanao added quickly.

"Done," Taro said, snapping the phone shut. "How is it possible that you can be so beautiful and so perfect at the same time?" he asked rhetorically, leaning over the desk. Nanao realized, almost a split second too late that he had been attempting to kiss her in gratitude, and managed to deflect his lips to her cheek instead.

"We'd better go to the club soon if you don't want to be late," Nanao said primly, getting to her feet. She was so lost in wondering what she had gotten herself into that she missed the flash of chestnut hair as it disappeared from the window, a blur in the haze of the streetlamps.

- - -

Nanao stared in the mirror. _At least it's longer_, she mused. She was currently dressed in a costume that was a 'sexy' take-off on the traditional kimono that had been worn by geisha in the past. Though Nanao highly doubted that any geisha had used a black lace-up corset to keep their kimono closed or had a slit up the leg of their skirt that revealed all but the topmost four inches of her thigh. Nanao was also at a lost as to how she was supposed to serve drinks with these sleeves. But, then again, the extra coverage was a fair trade for more difficult movement in her mind.

Sighing, she removed her glasses, and tucked them neatly down the front of her outfit and replaced them with the small black mask. It was going to be a long night.

- - -

The doorman's jaw dropped as the quartet of individuals approached the red velvet rope. They must be new here. He had never seen them before in his life and he was _sure_ he would have remembered them.

His eyes trailed up the toned legs of the strawberry-blonde whose generous curves were covered by the glittering turquoise sequins of her dress. He met the baleful stare of the shorter man beside her, and realized at once that the color of her dress was no mere coincidence. It matched his strangely colored eyes.

Behind the odd couple followed an even stranger pair. Closest to him was a petite girl clad in a short black dress. Her mischievous eyes were overshadowed by the brim of a black fedora with a pink ribbon wrapped around the brim. Her hat matched the one worn by the significantly taller man, who had her hand tucked gallantly in the crook of his arm.

"Are you going to stop staring and let us in or not?" the white-haired young-man snapped. The bouncer wasn't quite sure that he was legally allowed to be admitted but was too intimidated to ask for his identification.

"You'll need these," he stammered, gesturing to the hand-selected masks that were being offered to them by the hostess.

"Thanks," the younger girl grinned, flashing a flirtatious wink at him. Maybe she was older than he had originally thought.

- - -

A strange silence fell over the club. Music was still playing but it seemed as if all of the chatter that usually took place over the cacophony of pounding bass rhythms and clinking glasses had ceased. Nanao paused as she meandered through the VIP section, wondering what had caused the change in atmosphere.

Then a wolf-whistle broke the stillness and a laugh broke the air, light and appreciative. The laughter was familiar. It reminded her of how Matsumoto reacted whenever she thought Nanao was being cute in her stubbornness. Nanao brushed the thought away.

There was absolutely no possibility that Matsumoto could _ever_ have found her here.

"You look lovely tonight Ise-san," Hotaka complimented as she made her way to the bar. "I like the red and black on you," he winked. Nanao thought she would never get used to the attention the men paid her here. "I think you like this one better too," he added as he began to mix the drinks she asked for. "Pink makes you sad."

Nanao blanched. Was it really that obvious that pink caused her almost physical pain every time she saw it?

"What was the strange silence a minute ago?" she said quickly, changing the subject.

"A group of _really_ good-looking people came in. It was a tall guy and girl in matching hats and this bombshell with a shorter man. Lucky bastard," Hotaka added ruefully. "Pardon my language, Ise-san but she was real looker."

"Aren't they all to you, Hotaka-san?" Nanao said sardonically, picking up her tray of drinks.

"You know I like you most of all, Ise-san," Hotaka grinned. "But I don't fancy being killed by Taro for taking his girl anytime soon."

Nanao winced as she lifted the tray. She didn't recall ever becoming "Taro's girl."

- - -

Shunsui settled at the part of the main bar that was facing the dance floor. Hitsugaya slid onto the stool next to his as the Shunsui ordered a drink. Hitsugaya frowned at the man. He disapproved of drinking when there was a job to be done.

"I need to be hydrated in case my darling Nanao-chan tries to make a run for it," Shunsui explained without hint of guilt. Hitsugaya shook his head and flipped open his cell phone. Matsumoto and Okuni leaned over shoulders to gaze at the read out.

"She's in the back, somewhere" Hitsugaya muttered. "How do we get her out here?"

"Easy. We lure her out," Matsumoto declared, flipping her immaculate hair over one shoulder.

"You do know she's going to beat feet as soon as she knows we're here, right?" Okuni said, adjusting her hat brim. "And I'd hate to loose my new hat in a cross-city race."

"What are you thinking of Rangiku?" Hitsugaya demanded, staring at his vice-captain.

"Just trust me," she said brightly. Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed. Every time he heard that phrase out of Matsumoto he knew he wasn't going to like what followed. Well, not _all_ the time…

"Let some of your reiatsu leak," Matsumoto instructed Shunsui, grabbing the drink he had ordered and taking a sip before handing it back to him. "Okuni and I are going to go to work."

"Doing what?" Hitsugaya demanded.

"Creating a distraction," Matsumoto answered gleefully, grabbing Okuni's arm and pulling her into the flashing lights of the dance floor.

- - -

Nanao almost dropped the tray of drinks she was carrying when she felt it. Like the first ray of heat one felt after living a long time in the arctic. It was… Shunsui.

His reiatsu flared, soothing and powerful, around her. Then it disappeared.

Nanao shook her head and continued the job she had offered to do. She really was going insane. Maybe she ought to see someone about it.

- - -

Shunsui carefully concealed his reiatsu once more, taking a swallow of his drink. He could not help but be amused as he watched Hitsugaya's teal eyes widen as they took in Matsumoto's idea of a distraction.

You had to give the wily fukutaichō credit. It _was_ distracting, Shunsui thought.

He watched as Matsumoto's sparkling frame pressed itself intimately against Okuni's. Matsumoto winked seductively at the crowd and Okuni played along perfectly, her hand sliding up Matsumoto's leg to grip her hip as the two swayed provocatively to the music. _It was a great day for the male population when those two befriended each other_, Shusui mused. The male population agreed wholeheartedly with him it seemed, as they had ceased to dance with their partners, transfixed by the two women.

Shunsui chuckled. He thought he heard more than one jaw hit the floor when Matsumoto threw her head back, bringing Okuni's head to rest near her infamous assets.

Hitsugaya growled and leapt to his feet, suddenly acutely aware of the reaction other men must have been having to watching Matsumoto dance. He was usually not a jealous person but letting Matsumoto hug someone and allowing other men to ogle her as she wrapped a bare leg― _his_ leg― around little Okuni's waist was just too much…

Shunsui considered telling the younger captain that it was not the wisest idea to go over there and attempt to pull Matsumoto away but decided against it. Instead, he loosened his tight control over his reiatsu slightly once more and grinned into his drink as Hitsugaya suddenly found himself sandwiched between two beautiful women.

In older days, Shunsui might have envied Hitsugaya's position, but at the moment there was only one woman he wanted to find. And the only thing he wanted her sandwiched between was himself and a mattress… Shunsui dismissed the tempting thought. First things first.

He scanned the place, searching for any sign of Nanao. He froze, his eyes glued to the petite black-haired woman who had just approached the bar. He watched as she elegantly maneuvered in the long sleeves of scarlet silk that accompanied her geisha-themed ensemble.

Shunsui tamped down on his reiatsu fiercely, not wanting to give his location away. For he had known who it was, even before her masked gaze had swept down the bar. He had known before the strange pulsing energy she was emitting washed over him. For only his Nanao would wear an outfit like that, and think nothing of tucking her glasses where they would obscure her cleavage.

- - -

Nanao eyed the length of the bar. She blanched when she saw a flash of pink out of the corner of her eye. She rolled her eyes at her own behavior.

Shunsui was not here. She was surely just suffering some odd sort of emotional withdrawal that was causing her subconscious to delude her into thinking that he was.

Nanao slid the small piece of paper with her latest drink orders over the glass counter of the bar. She watched as Hotaka went through the motions of assembling the order, barely paying attention to what he was putting in the glasses. His eyes were glued to the dance floor.

"Hotaka-san, is something wrong?" Nanao asked, slightly concerned at the man's behavior.

"No," he croaked. "I'm just enjoying the show." Nanao picked up her tray of glasses with a frown. She turned.

The tray slipped from her fingers. Glasses shattered at her feet, unheeded.

"What are they doing―" she gasped, unable to complete the sentence. She had meant to say 'What are they doing here?', but a voice answered her question as it stood.

"They're dancing, Nanao-chan," a voice murmured in her ear. "I thought you would know immediately. We've gotten quite good at dancing around each other over the years, haven't we?"

Nanao's knees gave out and a strong arm wrapped around her torso, preventing her from sliding on the broken shards of glass, slick with alcohol. She was bathed in heat, as his reiatsu crashed over her. Her lungs gasped for the air it filled as if they hadn't properly breathed in the week they had been separated.

"I told you I would always find you, my precious Nanao-chan." Nanao could feel his smile against her skin as lips pressed a tender kiss to her neck. In a haze of shock, Nanao stumbled forward― and into another set of arms.

"Nanao, are you okay?" Taro asked, his hand coming up to cup her face. "I heard the crash and saw it was you. I think it's time you took a break, you've been working too hard," he continued to talk, completely unaware of the oppressive reiatsu that was threatening to crush them both.

"It was my fault," Shunsui said amiably, studying the young man. He seemed _much_ too comfortable touching his Nanao. She, on the other hand, did not look nearly so at ease in his embrace.

Shunsui would have laughed, except it was dawning on him that there was more than one reason Nanao might look so uncomfortable as she stared at him from within the circle of another man's arms. Had she…moved on? The painful thought was overwhelming. He had never thought, never even considered that Nanao might find anyone else…ever. Had she forgotten him, the centuries they had spent together, in such a short time?

"No, I― Shunsui…Taichō, what are you doing here?" Nanao stammered.

"Taichō?" Taro asked, his green eyes whipping around to glare at Shunsui accusingly. "Who exactly are you?" he demanded.

"I would be her superior officer and love interest," Shunsui replied, trying to maintain a pleasant air. "And who might you be?"

"Superior officer?" Taro said dubiously. Then his expression grew dark. "Nanao, is this the bastard who hit you?"

Shunsui's eyes widened in shock at the man's comment. First, he thought it was unfair that _he_ was the one called a bastard when this slip of a man was holding _his _Nanao-chan in his arms and secondly, he had the entire story completely backwards.

"_I_ was the one who got hit," Shunsui amended, wondering what exactly Nanao had told this man. "Frequently," he added, "usually with a fan or a really heavy book."

"What are you talking about?" Taro said, cradling Nanao closer to him, unaware of her attempts to push him off of her.

"I was wondering the same thing," Shunsui said. "I believe Nanao-chan would like to be let go of now," he observed, his hand running down the length of the pink silk tie. It was an action designed to prevent himself from punching the man into the glass counter of the bar. He was sure the resulting crash would be most gratifying.

Taro opened his mouth to respond but Nanao cut across him. "_Nanao_ would like to use the restroom," she declared suddenly, pushing Taro off of her. Taro made to stop her but she was already wending her way through the crowd forcefully.

"I think it's time you leave," the bookstore owner turned back to confront the strange man with the pink trimmed hat and tie but his words met only empty air.

The man was already gone.

* * *

A/N: If you want this story to have any ending at all, let alone a happy one, leave a review!


	16. Reunion

A/N: So originally, this chapter was two pages longer. But in the editing process, I realized that there were some things that had to be addressed and adding them in would make the chapter much longer than the others. So this is _supposed _to be the second to last chapter. Enjoy!

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**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter 16: Reunion **

_**To all those who guessed, especially Goddess of the Crescent Moon. And to nekonotaishou, I hope this came in time to save your furniture.**_

Nanao shouted a hurried apology as she pushed, shoved, and wended her way through the throng of people. She ran as fast she could through the minute spaces the masked dancers provided, unstopping, despite the fact that her sleeves had already hit several people.

If she had any prayer of getting away, she would have to use any advantage she had. At the current moment, said advantages were few, but the fact that she knew the layout of club, as well as most of the city, would help to compensate for her inability to perform flash-step.

Gasping, Nanao threw her entire weight onto the metal bar that released the weathered side door and stumbled into the small alleyway that separated the club from the next building. She hissed in discomfort as she landed awkwardly on one high-heeled foot, rolling her ankle. She had barely managed to take one aching, wobbly step before a rustling sound drew her eyes upward.

"The side door, Nanao-chan?" Shunsui admonished, clucking his tongue patronizingly. "I never pegged you for a coward before."

Nanao swallowed hard, her violet eyes wide behind the silk of mask. Shunsui stood, one foot propped against the wall, his hands shoved noncommittally into the pockets of his black dress pants. He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows, highlighting the toned forearms she had traced so many times. His collar was open at the neck, a loosened pink silk tie hanging around it, like an invitation to draw him closer. The strangely attractive hat was angled over one side of his face, casting it into deeper shadow.

He looked like sin.

She took a deep breath, in a futile attempt to squash the rush of need that had soared within her. She set her jaw and stared determinedly ahead, toward the light post sitting at the curb, covered in peeling stickers.

"If you came all this way to insult me, _sir_," she purposefully threw the formal title in his face, "then I will have to excuse myself."

Shunsui's eyes, gleaming in the hazy yellow light from the corner, shifted to look at her. "Where were you running, Nanao?" he demanded softly. Frozen under the weight of his stare, Nanao couldn't bring herself to move.

"Home," she replied just as quietly, her eyes meeting his for the first time.

"I didn't think that you would be so compliant, Nanao-chan, but if you insist," Shunsui chuckled, pushing off of the wall. His dress shoes scraped the crumbling asphalt under his feet as he took a step towards her.

"I didn't mean yours," Nanao said deliberately. She almost didn't get the carefully crafted words out over the pounding of her heart. It was drumming a familiar tune of agony and longing against her ribcage.

Shunsui paused, his usually smiling mouth straightening into a line. "Where is yours, then? Mine is right here," he professed.

Nanao tore her gaze from the sad, incomplete smile that tugged at the corners of his eyes and took a few shaky steps forward. Her ankle felt a little more secure.

"In an alleyway, sir?" she said derisively.

Shunsui stepped in front of her, his hands falling from his pockets. "I meant it all those years ago when I said playing dumb doesn't suit you Nanao."

Nanao found it difficult to make out his expression now that his back was turned away from the light. She wasn't sure that she _wanted_ to see. She didn't think she could stand it.

Nanao tried to sidestep around him but her effort was rendered useless when his arms folded around her, holding her firmly in place against him. She braced herself on his chest and tried to pull away, but she was no match for his physical strength.

"What are you doing here, Nanao?" Shunsui asked. His voice was bursting with confusion. He brought one sun-browned palm to rest on her cheek, guiding her face towards his.

"I was a attempting to make a life without you before you went ahead and ruined my efforts as usual," she snapped finally. Shunsui dropped his hand as if he had been stung.

"Now why would you go and do something like that?" Shunsui said, encircling his fingers around the wrist of the arm she had managed to wriggle free. "If you had grown…tired of me you should have just said something. It wouldn't have jeopardized your job in any way."

Nanao threw her head back and laughed at the ridiculousness of his assumption. "I didn't leave because I had grown tired of you."

Shunsui's grip on her hip constricted at her words, and Nanao's eyelids ghosted shut…It was much too difficult to concentrate surrounded by the warmth of his reiatsu.

"I left because I didn't want to make you choose between the job that you love and me," Nanao admitted, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Faster than he should have been able to move in a false body, Shunsui had turned them in the narrow space. Nanao gasped as she felt her shoulders collide with the rough brick of the alley wall.

Shunsui leaned over her, the hand that was curved above him on the wall curled into a fist. "Can you honestly say that you thought it wouldn't hurt me when I woke up to an empty bed and nothing but rose petals?"

Nanao blinked up at him, her eyelashes brushing against the mask in an irritating way. "I thought you would move on eventually, find…someone better."

Shunsui slammed his fist against the wall in an uncharacteristic display of almost violent frustration. "Damn it, Nanao. How does anyone get over _this_!"

To demonstrate his point he rammed his lips against hers.

Unbridled emotions attacked her like a sharpened blade, releasing a wildfire of desperation and a need so frantic that it caused her hands to shake with the force of it. She twined her fingers in the fabric of his shirt in order to steady herself as he pressed her closer to the gritty bricks.

Nanao was dizzy, she was unsure if it was from the lack of oxygen or because she couldn't quite comprehend that he had found her…that he was here…kissing her in a way she never thought she would experience ever again.

His large hand trailed over her hip bone, lifting her bare thigh to wrap around his waist. "No," she moaned as the friction of his familiar, calloused fingers moving on her skin caused her to arch towards him.

Shunsui broke apart from her, his eyes dark and questioning. He sagged forward, supporting his weight on the wall with one arm, burying his head in the curve of Nanao's neck. "Do you really not want this?" he sighed, his breath hot on her cool skin.

Nanao shook her head, temporarily unable to speak. Shunsui drew back to look her in the eyes. He found them infuriating obscured by the mask. He removed the hand from her leg long enough to peel it from her face and discard it onto the alley floor. He searched her blue-violet eyes for a reason.

"We can't," she croaked. "Not here. Anyone could find us. Anyone might see." Shunsui didn't particularly care at the current moment, but he would do anything to ensure more time with her.

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his swollen lips. "Proper as always, my Nanao-chan," he teased, nipping lightly at her earlobe. "Take us someplace more private, then."

She nodded and, taking his hand, made to lead him back to her rooms. She had not managed to place one foot forward before she suddenly found herself airborne. "What are you doing, Shunsui?" she demanded, but the usual force of her indignation was lost.

"I'm not risking you running away again, Nanao-chan," Shunsui said smugly, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Now which way am I going?"

- - -

The door to Nanao's small set of rooms opened with a groaning creak.

"The place is a little old, but Ta― the landlord― gave me a very affordable rate," Nanao justified. Shunsui surveyed the almost nonexistent décor over the woman in his arms. How hard must she have worked just to have this roof over her head?

"It wasn't that bad," Nanao responded. Shunsui turned to face her. He had not realized he had voiced his question aloud. "It kept me busy," she continued, her face flushing red.

"What were you trying so hard not to think about, my industrious Nanao-chan?" Shunsui queried, walking over to the futon and placing her lightly onto it.

"You already know the answer," she said crossly as he knelt down in front of her. He chuckled, his fingers tracing the indentation above one ankle bone. He untied the ribbon that held the black stiletto in place around her delicate ankle, freeing one perfectly dainty foot.

"But I still wondered if you would say it," Shunsui shrugged as he liberated the other foot, tossing the shoes across the bare floor. "I have to admit that I do like this outfit Nanao-chan. It's quite sexy," he commented, watching as her blush deepened.

"Yours isn't too bad, either," Nanao stated quietly, meeting his wandering gaze hesitantly.

Shunsui paused for a moment. It was very rare for Nanao to comment about his appearance. He raised one eyebrow in wordless delight. Silently, he lifted one leg and began lightly trailing kisses down the graceful arc of her calf before drawing it over his shoulder. Nanao shuddered slightly as he gently nuzzled his nose in the indentation of her kneecap.

Bracing herself on one hand, she reached up ever so slowly and hooked her fingers around the silken material of his tie. Shunsui was pleasantly surprised when, with a quick movement, she used the piece of fabric to pull his mouth to hers. Nanao fell onto her back, bringing him down on top of her, her lips frantically searching his.

"Slowly, Nanao-chan," Shunsui admonished as he pressed soothing kisses down the column of her throat. Her nails raked through the fabric of his shirt he gently bit the sensitive skin above one collarbone.

"Why?" she challenged, arching purposefully against him. He inhaled sharply at the contact but chuckled soon after, resuming his exploration of her already exposed skin.

"Because, my ethereal Nanao-chan, we have a lot of time to make up for," Shunsui explained. She could feel him grin against her flesh at her impatient sigh. His hands disentangled hers from his hair, caging them on either side of her head.

"Why can't we make up for lost time _quickly_?" she gasped as his knee shifted

"Because some things are worth the wait," he replied before he began to unfasten the ribbon that secured her corset… with his teeth.

- - -

Nanao shivered at the early morning air that blew threw the small crack in the window in the corner of her room. She was very warm and instinctively shifted closer to the source of the heat. She frowned when the fiery thing moved beneath her. She lifted a hand to draw the covers more firmly over herself and it brushed against something tangled and soft. It was hair.

So last night hadn't been a dream.

Nanao slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring into Shunsui's warm brown ones. They sparkled with happiness in the first rays of the sun surfacing over the horizon.

"That tie is most becoming on you, Nanao-chan," he greeted. She flushed, attempting to pull it over her head but he stopped her. "Leave it."

Chagrined, she laid her head back onto his chest. Her hair fell over his shoulder, a whisper of ebony silk.

"Come home with me," he said after a moment of silence. Nanao lifted her head to meet his eyes.

"I can't," she whispered. "I don't have a reiatsu to speak of which renders me unable to fight. I'll be forced to leave the Seireitei."

Shunsui dusted his fingers through her tresses in a contemplative gesture. "I don't really think you have a choice Nanao-chan. If you don't come with me, someone else will be sent after you soon," he tugged on a strand playfully. "You're easier to find than you think."

He knew without having to see it, that Nanao's mouth had turned down into an adorably displeased frown. "What do you mean?" she inquired, unable to accept shortcoming.

Nanao listened, as Shunsui told her in his rumbling voice, how their friends' official mission had just happened to coincide with his own.

- - -

"A parasite?" Nanao said dubiously, eyeing the strange shopkeeper over the rim of her glasses.

"Yes, a parasite," Urahara declared, gesturing to the screen in front of him. "It's some sort of odd creature that's feeding off of your reiatsu," he clarified.

"And where did you get this readout?" Nanao asked, her tone frigid. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like this answer.

"Your handcrafted gigai has been sending me reports daily," Urahara said, a note of pride in his voice. Nanao eyed the fake body that wore her resemblance with a sense of betrayal.

"How do I get rid of it?" Nanao queried, tuning her attention back to the screen filled with odd number sets and a rotating image of a female form.

"I have no idea," Urahara replied with a noncommittal wave of his fan. "I'm still working on that part."

"Is she in any danger?" Shunsui interjected from where he stood leaning against the wall. Nanao glanced at him. It was disconcerting to see his discarded gigai lying by his feet.

"It doesn't appear to be anything life-threatening," Urahara responded, pressing a button and turning the screen off. "As long as she doesn't go around throwing herself in front of hollows to save your life," Urahara said slyly, his eyes dancing beneath the brim of his striped hat, "she should be fine."

"You accessed my medical records?" Nanao demanded, furiously. She rose to her feet, fuming at the indecent breach of privacy.

"What can I say," Urahara shrugged, "I'm a curious man, Ise-san."

"I could have you brought before the courts," Nanao threatened, taking a step toward the former captain. She adjusted her glasses. The motion, which would have seemed graceful and unimportant on anyone else, was incredibly intimidating.

"Give me one good reason," Nanao said archly, staring up into his face defiantly. Urahara grinned and leant down the considerable distance to whisper in her ear.

"Because one day, you'll thank me for keeping you where you could be found." He tapped her lightly on the shoulder with his fan in a genial way before sweeping out of the room.

She had half a mind to follow him, but Shunsui stopped her by wrapping his arm around her waist. Nanao glanced up at him, indignant.

"Come Nanao-chan," he said, drawing her to his side. "If you've finished everything you wanted to do, I think its time we go home." She nodded in acquiescence. Shunsui's answering smile was blinding.

"It will be nice to sleep in our bed again," Nanao remarked as Shunsui led her towards the front room where their friends were waiting to depart.

"Oh, I don't think you'll be sleeping very much tonight, Nanao-chan," Shunsui whispered conspiratorially in her ear. Nanao merely smacked him in response.

- - -

Taro stared at the note resting on top of the pile of neatly folded silk. It was accompanied by a check worth two months of rent. He wondered how life could be so vindictive, snatching away Nanao just as he was falling in love with her.

_Taro-san, _he read the neatly printed script for the eighth time.

_Thank you very much for all of your help. I have left your monetary compensation with the costume that belongs to your friend. I have emptied my room and will not be returning. I apologize that I could not be as open and honest with you as you were with me. I am sure that I will see you again one day many years from now. You won't recognize me, and it's better that way. _

_Nanao_

- - -

Ishida Ryūken allowed a small smile to escape his usual emotional restraints as he regarded the letter of resignation that sat neatly in the middle of his desk. Next to it was a short, neatly-printed note.

_Dear Ishida-san, _

_I regret that I must tender my resignation in this manner. It is time that I returned to the world that I belong to. I am returning with my Taichō. Please know that while I only worked for you a short time, you were the most competent and organized man I have ever had the privilege of assisting. I have taken your advice to heart and am going to appreciate the gifts I have been given. I hope that you can disregard our status and I can count your friendship among them. While I may be overstepping my bounds, I too have a piece of advice to give. Do not let your pride prevent you from being the father you still could be. _

_Ise Nanao_

Ryūken folded the note and tucked inside his pocket. She had some nerve, offering unwanted guidance.

He shook his head as he emerged into the warm air of the spring evening. He had really been sinking low lately, hiring a shinigami to work in his personal office and then conspiring with Kurosaki of all people to help her find her way back home.

Still, while he was already on the descendant, he might as well find Isshin. The bastard, he knew, would be more than willing to help him drown his sorrows. She really had been the perfect personal assistant.

- - -

"He told me it was a parasite," Nanao informed Unohana as the healer performed various kidō spells over her, her kind eyes searching Nanao's form.

"He didn't seem to think it was serious," Nanao continued. She didn't know why, but the healer's lack of response was making her incredibly nervous. Her job, her life as she had known it hinged on whether Unohana Taichō could fix her reiatsu.

"Please, Unohana Taichō," Nanao said finally, as the healer drew her into a sitting position. "Can you solve the problem?" she pleaded softly.

Unohana suppressed a small giggle. Nanao stared at her. It was unlike Unohana to laugh at another's pain. "Ise-fukutaicho," she said soothingly, patting Nanao's hand gently. "This is the type of problem that solves itself. I will inform the Soutaichō that you will be fit to return to battle in a few months."

"Months? Do you know how many?" Nanao asked, relieved that she was going to be alright and slightly horrified at the amount of time it would take her to recover.

"Oh, I think about seven more should suffice," Unohana replied with a knowing smile. "Congratulations."

Nanao had to grip her arm to keep from falling off of the examination table. "What?" she breathed.

* * *

A/N: Give me an early birthday present and review please. Cross your fingers that I'll be able to finish before I head back to school!


	17. The Threshold

**Tomorrow and After  
****Chapter 17: The Threshold**

_**To all of the readers who have stuck with me from the first words of Tossed Aside, to the very last ones of this story. **_

Shunsui paused outside the office door as a voice called his name. He turned to survey the petite brunette who was perched on the office stoop, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her generally smooth brow was pinched with worry. The dancing light of the kidō lamp next to the doorjamb made the line between her eyes seem more severe.

"Are you alright, Okuni-san?" he said, crouching down until they were at eye level. It was incongruous with his sense of joy that anyone should be unhappy. After all, his Nanao-chan had just returned home yesterday.

"Nanao's buried herself in paperwork," Okuni explained.

Shunsui gave a signature earthy chuckle. "It doesn't surprise me. The paperwork hasn't been touched for a week." He tilted his head to the side, taking in the concern in Okuni's large chocolate eyes. "I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"She's been working nonstop since she returned from the Fourth Division earlier today," Okuni whispered. "I've been too afraid to ask," her voice broke slightly. Shunsui's inflating bubble of joy burst like a balloon that had just met a needle. Whatever had Nanao preoccupied could not be good.

"I'll go talk to her," Shunsui said, standing up. "Don't worry, Okuni-san. Nanao isn't going anywhere." He ruffled her hair affectionately. "Why don't you see if you can find anything out from Yamada-san?" Okuni nodded, grateful for something constructive to do, and hurried off to go find the young healer.

"My industrious, Nanao-chan," Shunsui called in the sing-song voice he used especially to annoy her. He nudged the door open with one foot. "You should surface for dinner, little Okuni-san is worried about you."

Shunsui surveyed the familiar scene. Nanao's immaculately neat head was folded over a pile of paperwork as high as her shoulders. He moved around the desk to pluck the pen out of her fingers. He frowned when he felt how cold her fingers were under his grip. _Could Unohana do nothing for her then?_ he though miserably.

He pulled her chair back from the desk, surprised when Nanao did not issue a singe word of protest. "Come, Nanao-chan. Why don't we go and enjoy the blossoms before they fade?" he asked, holding out a hand. Nanao slid her frosty, delicately long fingers into it silently. She followed behind him as he led her out of the office door and around the back of the building, toward the small grove at the back of the Eighth Division grounds.

- - -

"The blossoms pale in comparison to my Nanao-chan," Shunsui commented, pressing a kiss against her palm as he folded himself into a sitting position near the base of a large plum tree. Nanao sat facing him and tucked her legs beside her gracefully.

"Shunsui," Nanao began, but the words meant to follow stuck in her throat. Shunsui, an unaccustomed wrinkle of worry adorning his brow, brushed a soothing kiss against the knuckles of the hand he still held.

"Tell me what Unohana said, Nanao," Shunsui said softly. "It won't change anything between us," he tried to assure her.

Nanao closed her eyes hard. "I'm…not so sure about that," she responded after a moment. She shivered even though the weather was quite warm. Frowning, Shunsui wrapped his favorite garment around her form.

"Would sake help you to build your courage?" he asked with a smile. It was an old joke between them, but it failed to relieve the despair and confusion that were rolling off of her in waves.

"I don't think I'm allowed to drink it," Nanao responded, opening her eyes and meeting his. Shunsui was surprised to see fear lurking in the blue-violet depths.

"Nanao, what exactly are you trying to say and why do you look so frightened to say it?" Shunsui murmured, pulling her closer to him. He brushed a stray blossom out of her hair tenderly, waiting for her to respond.

"I'm trying to tell you that the…parasite Urahara… diagnosed me with is really…" She trailed off unable to finish.

Nanao had never been so nervous in her entire life. Not for her final exit exam from the Academy, nor during her first battle. Panic had never strangled her like this, threatening to overwhelm her. It was almost akin to the time she had thought that hollow was going to kill Shunsui. At least you knew what to expect when diving in front of a rampaging beast… but _this_? She had no idea what to anticipate.

Would he still want her…want _them_?

His hands slowly trailed up and down her arms as he attempted to warm her. "It's really what?" Shunsui asked, his gentle eyes probing.

She took a shaky breath. "It's a child. I'm…I'm pregnant," Nanao managed to choked out. Shunsui froze at her confession, staring at her tormented eyes.

"And I'm frightened because… I didn't plan this and you're not…" Her voice wavered as she gestured feebly in his direction.

_It's over_, Nanao thought miserably. She should have known it was too good to be true. All good things come to an end sometime, wasn't that the old saying? Births were so rare in Soul Society. Why did it have to happen to her?

What was she supposed to do now? She was so scared she couldn't move and― his lips swept over her hers. She was in his lap before her spinning brain could comprehend her change in position. His hands were in her hair, tossing the pins into the grass where they would never be found. His fingers traced the lines of her face, removing the tears she hadn't even known were falling.

Her name fell from his lips as his nose skimmed across her cheekbone. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, clinging to him. "I didn't mean to…" He chuckled and she felt the vibration shoot through her.

"Nanao-chan," Shunsui said, kissing away a tear. "I do hope those are tears of joy," he admonished lightly.

"That depends," Nanao responded, her eyes flicking to his, "on whether you're pleased or not."

He kissed her again, gentle but firm. She could feel his smile against her lips. "I've never been happier in my entire existence," he answered her. All she could read from his blinding smile was certain truth. Nanao tucked her head into the curve of his broad shoulder, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. She felt delirious and disoriented.

Shunsui's large hand splayed across her stomach, the warmth so comforting it caused Nanao to sigh at the simple pleasure. "How long have you been carrying my little surprise?" Shunsui asked after a moment of contented silence.

"About two months," Nanao answered promptly. "It's hard to pinpoint when exactly…" Shunsui laughed as he could feel the slight warmth of her flush against his skin without having to see it. He stiffened underneath her, a sudden, unpleasant realization crashing over him.

"Botan," Shunsui grimaced, thinking of the incident for the first time in weeks. "You fought him when you were… You were injured, he could have…" Shunsui trailed off, the implications of what might have been making him feel slightly nauseous.

"I didn't know," Nanao said defensively. "I felt fine. Unohana Taichō thinks that it was the stress of the fight that triggered a reaction from the…baby," she hesitated before saying it. The concept was still unreal to her in many ways. "It's formed a kind of shell around itself for protection. It's taking more of my reiatsu than usual but Unohana said that it might just be how much energy it needs to sustain itself," Nanao continued, attempting to explain away her body's odd behavior. "She's only had to deal with a few pregnancies before, none of which were cases dealing with―"

"Fantastically good-looking and incredibly powerful parents?" he interrupted her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "How could the child not be special when I am its father and you, my beautiful Nanao-chan, are its loving mother?"

"I never said that you were the father," Nanao stated, her expression serious.

Shunsui paused for a moment as if to consider the idea and then exploded into his rich, earthen laughter. "You've always been a terrible liar, Nanao-chan," he informed her for the millionth time.

Nanao could not suppress her own laughter in response. Nothing had ever prepared her for the direction her life had taken. Yet she doubted that she could ever be ungrateful for the turn.

"Come, my fertile, Nanao-chan," Shunsui said, lifting her in his arms as he rose to his feet. "We must get some more food into you. You have to nourish our child!"

"Fertile?" Nanao said dryly, arching an eyebrow.

Shunsui kissed her forehead, the immovable smile etched into his eyes. "Ah, I missed that expression."

It was true, for no one could look quite so stunning while giving him a look that read, 'Shunsui, you are so ridiculous.'

- - -

Nanao signed one last piece of paperwork, adding it to the pile with a satisfied sigh. She stood and stretched. Her knuckles cracked satisfactorily, slightly relieving the cramps in her fingers.

It was almost five-thirty and if she didn't hurry she would be late to the division meeting. She thought it was odd that Shunsui had called such a late meeting, let alone suggest that it be held in the middle of the Eighth Division compound instead of the squad's common room.

_It probably isn't a meeting at all_, Nanao thought. He might just be planning another one of his escapades, like the candlelit star gazing picnic he had forced them all to go on three years ago. Still, Shunsui had done stranger things before.

She went to remove the violet haori she was currently wrapped in, a gift Shunsui had breezed in and deposited on her this morning, but thought better of it. She didn't relish shivering. Besides, she would have to bear teasing about more than just breaking the dress code before long. Nanao cringed at the thought.

Nanao emerged out of the door and into the brilliance of the setting sun, her fingers brushing absentmindedly over the pendant at her throat. She smiled as the fiery orange light picked out the hidden luster of the paving stones, revealing a subtle sparkle. It made the rose petals look romantic.

Blinking, Nanao stared upwards to the balcony above the division office, where pink and scarlet blossoms were drifting lazily downward to the enchanting timbre of a samisen.

Nanao craned her neck upward to see the source of the raining blossoms. Matsumoto was gleefully tossing petals from a large basket. Beside her, a glaring Hitsugaya reluctantly helped, throwing blooms out of his own container. On Matsumoto's other side, a partially obscured Okuni strummed her instrument with graceful movements.

"_What_ are you doing?" Nanao demanded. Neither one of her friends saw fit to respond to her queries. Irritated, Nanao turned her attention back towards the ground, seeking the one person she knew had to be responsible for this little display.

He was not difficult to find, standing in his habitual rose-colored raiment. She vaguely wondered why Ukitake, standing behind Shunsui, was present at these proceedings. The entirety of their division was assembled, Nanao realized with a glance at the gathered shinigami. Though they were all observing the scene in various postures, Nanao realized with a start that all of the attention was focused on her.

"Taichō, what exactly is going on?" Nanao addressed Shunsui. She strode toward him briskly, falling into the crisp professional demeanor she always maintained in front of her soldiers.

Once she was close enough Shunsui threaded his fingers through hers, his eyes glittering. "Nanao and I have a special announcement to make!" he announced jovially, turning to face the division

A blush spread from the tips of Nanao's freezing cold toes, dying her cheeks scarlet. He wasn't going to tell them all right now, was he? She tried to yank her hand fingers out of his, mortified. She hadn't prepared herself for this.

"Nanao and I are soon to be married," Shunsui boomed. Nanao froze. She certainly hadn't been expecting _that_.

"Pardon me?" Nanao said, bemused. "I wasn't aware that you had proposed." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. Shunsui just couldn't just go and make life-altering decisions on his own…

"That's because I haven't yet," Shunsui replied quietly. The division, which had erupted into cheers previously, was suddenly silent, every ear straining to hear. Shunsui took her other delicate hand into his, smiling softly at her stunned expression. It wasn't everyday one managed to shock his Nanao-chan.

"Nanao," he began, loud enough for the assembled crowd to hear, "I once told you that some things in life are inevitable. Call it fate, call it destiny, whatever your intellectual heart desires." Nanao's breath hitched as he repeated the words he'd said right before they had kissed for the very first time. "I _still_ believe we fall under that category," Shunsui continued.

"It's true that we've danced around each other for many years, but we always end up beside each other. It is my sincerest wish that I only have partner from now on. Will you be mine, Nanao-chan, as I will be yours, tomorrow and after?"

Nanao stared up at his tanned, honest face. She was completely unaware that there were no more petals falling and that the romantic music had ended abruptly on a jarring note. She barely registered that every eye was glued on her face, waiting for her answer.

Nanao was captivated by the man before her. Despite the soft smile on his face, there was _fear_ in his eyes. Fear that she would reject him. The combination of the rare emotion and the love there completely undid her. What choice did she have? What other answer could she give?

"Yes," she whispered, nodding her head stiffly in case her voice had failed her.

Nanao found herself suddenly surrounded by the familiar strength of his arms and the cheers of their division. His mouth eased over hers and Nanao could not think well enough to care that she was behaving quite unprofessionally, or that she just been showered in petals because Matsumoto had accidentally caused Hitsugaya to overturn his basket in her excitement. Nanao had never felt more content in her entire life.

Shunsui picked her up and twirled her around, his lips finding hers once more. "You had me concerned for a moment, my Nanao-chan," Shunsui murmured in her ear over the cacophony. "I thought you were going to refuse me in front of the entire division. But I knew that my Nanao-chan could not be so heartless and cruel."

"No doubt that's why you brought them," Nanao returned, but she could muster the usual bite behind the comment.

"I figured it couldn't hurt my chances," Shunsui admitted with a grin. Nanao rolled her eyes and pulled his face down to hers.

"Are you sure you're just not doing this because you got me pregnant?" she demanded in a heated whisper.

"Of course not, Nanao-chan, you know―," Shunsui began but he was cut off by the second basket of petals colliding with his head accompanied by a shrill shriek.

"I suppose it's not much of secret anymore," Nanao groaned with a long-suffering sigh. Matsumoto Rangiku, the sharpest ears in the Seireitei had overheard the news.

- - -

"It's perfect," Matsumoto cooed, smoothing the silk covering Nanao's shoulders. Nanao rolled her eyes as Matsumoto and Okuni, both dressed in their own elaborate kimonos, high-fived each other for a job well-done.

Nanao turned to appraise their handiwork in the mirror. The elaborate garment was not the traditional design for a wedding dress. Although, Nanao supposed, she and Shunsui had broken so many traditions already, it was almost laughable.

Nanao had refused to wear white, for she was nowhere near virginal anymore. Therefore, the top of the kimono was a rich cream color that faded into pink and red flowers dancing in a windstorm of crackling violet-gold lightning. It was supposed to be representative of the bride and groom, according to Okuni, who had overseen the rushed decorating process. Nanao had wanted to be married before she had begun showing.

Nanao adjusted the sparkling ornament Okuni had woven into her onyx hair, her heart twisting with nerves.

"I've got to go get ready to play," Okuni said apologetically, pulling Nanao into a quick hug. "You look fantastic." The small girl gave one extra squeeze before hurrying out of the tent.

"Do you have your zanpakutō?" Matsumoto asked, as she secured Nanao's armband around one floor-length sleeve. It was traditional that officers wear the sign of their rank at their wedding and ceremonially bear arms during the service.

"You tucked it in my sash earlier," Nanao informed her friend quietly. Matsumoto double-checked to make sure the weapon was visible before she pressed Nanao's carefully made-up face into her cleavage.

She planted a sisterly kiss on the top of Nanao's head. "You can't escape destiny, Nanao. And I really called this one, didn't I, little guy?" Matsumoto crooned, tickling Nanao's stomach. With one final wink, the strawberry-blond disappeared.

Nanao took a deep breath gathering her courage. Part of her longed to rip off the kimono and run away, but when the soft strains of Okuni's samisen coupled with the lilting of flutes sounded the beginning of the ceremony, the desire to see Shunsui turned the music into a Siren's song she could not disobey. It seemed like it took her miles to cover the distance between the side room she had prepared in and the base of the stairs leading up to the shrine.

She studiously ignored the eyes of their friends and acquaintances, their gasps, sighs, and hushed whispers as she came into view. She only wanted to see one person… and there he was. Dressed in midnight blue and his white captain's haori, Shunsui was every young girl's dream of what their groom should look like.

Nanao swallowed uneasily and her hand gripped Shunsui's arm instinctively when they met. He raised her hand to his cheek and pressed a tender kiss to the underside of it. Nanao wondered if he could feel her pulse racing just beneath the surface of her skin.

"Tomorrow and after, my Nanao-chan," he murmured gently. She nodded, her own gentle smile answering his. Together they silently ascended the steps.

The ceremony passed in a blur. Nanao barely registered going through the motions. She vaguely remembered sipping out of the ceremonial cups as Shunsui handed them to her and carrying out her own obligations in turn. She remembered snippets of the priest's traditional blessings and faintly hearing Okuni strumming an elaborate version of her original composition, _The Ballad of Shunsui and Nanao. _

But, Nanao would never forget when Shunsui turned to her, his eyes dancing with mischief. He unsheathed Katen Kyōkotsu as Nanao stared at him in bewilderment.

"I Kyōraku Shunsui, Taichō of the Eighth Division of the Thirteen Court Guardian Squads, have accepted this woman with my heart. Now I subject her to the judgment of my blade," he declared in a loud voice.

Nanao gaped in horror. She had read these words before. She resisted the urge to groan. How had he found _that_ book?

"I will accept the decision of the manifestation of my soul without fail whether she is deemed worthy or unworthy and acknowledge that this union is void without its consent."

A gasp rose up from the older members of the audience, punctuated by twitters of confusion from the younger ones. This ancient rite had not been practiced for centuries as so many couples had been devastated by the decision of their blades. A zanpakutō would physically prevent its wielder from returning to the rejected partner.

Nanao had known this. It was what had caused her to be rightfully afraid. They had chosen each other, why wasn't that enough?

"Take it Nanao," Shunsui said quietly, his voice too calm for the enormity of their present situation. "Erase any lingering doubts you have, or prove them right." She bit her lip at his words, anger and fear coursing through her. He would have it his way, then.

Nanao withdrew her zanpakutō from where she had tucked it into her obi. She unsheathed the blade, her heart hammering. Slowly and deliberately she repeated the words back to him. Then she proffered him the handle. Shunsui took it without hesitation.

Nanao's hands closed around the unfamiliar handles of Katen Kyōkotsu, testing their weight. She stifled a gasp as warmth shot up her arms. Then she was blind.

- - -

She was in a meadow, surrounded by vibrantly colored flowers. A gentle breeze ruffled the long grass. She stood still, taking in her surroundings. She watched, frightened, as finger-like blossoms waltzing on a strange wind, prodded her forward. As she was shown toward the center of the meadow, Nanao saw that there were two people sitting in the clearing, back to back. As the filtered sunlight illuminated their bodies for a brief moment, Nanao realized that they were fused, sharing the same back. Their faces were concealed by the trees' shadows.

"You have come to be judged," one voice, low and raspy commented. Something cracked and Nanao realized that it was one gracefully skeletal hand ushering her forward.

"Do not be afraid, Blossom Bringer" a soft tenor voice added. A gentle wind caressed Nanao's hand causing her to proffer it. "You have made the blossoms bloom where once many were withered and dark," the gentle voice continued. A hand, soft as the blossoms she was kneeling on caressed her open palm. "You have caused the growth of the soul."

"You risked death to save our wielder," the raspy voice intoned. The skeletal hand slid underneath Nanao's, trapping her between one hand's cool hardness and the other's velvet skin. "You love our wielder more than life."

"Brother and I have deemed you worthy," the soft child-like voice sang softly.

"Doubt our bearer no more," the raspy voice concluded. And Nanao was blind again.

- - -

Shunsui squinted against the darkness that had suddenly overwhelmed his eyes. He was rocking gently side to side. Carefully, he pressed his calloused palms against the surface he was sitting on, and felt weathered wood beneath his finger. His hand trailed to the side and slid into…water? Light split the blackness before him like a warning.

He opened his eyes, squinting against the harsh glare. Golden lightening illuminated the placid waters of a sea that gleamed blue-black under the crackling electricity that seemed to be coalescing into the form of…a woman.

"Welcome, Kyōraku Shunsui," a deep, echoing voice rolled across the tranquil water like a quiet peal of thunder.

"I am Kininazuma," the voice intoned. A whip-like crack sounded as the lightning woman appeared to toss her long gold-violet hair. "You have come to be judged."

"You must hold passion and conviction in your soul to have initiated this ritual. You also have persistence for you quelled the tempest that raged in Mistress' youth with your presence." Shunsui wished that the strange creature would turn and face him but she remained facing the other way.

"My face is for Mistress alone, as your brethren's faces are only for you," the woman admonished him quietly. "Your soul is of the earth," the blade declared. "You have seen many things and endured many battles. You wish to protect Mistress, whom you love. You would give your life to accomplish this."

The strange creature raised her arms, gesturing to the world she dwelled in. "Your love is deep like the waters of my home. I deem you worthy. Your efforts are rewarded."

The form of the woman exploded and the darkness returned to cover his eyes.

- - -

"What are we waiting for?" Matsumoto whispered urgently, leaning over Hitsugaya to address Ukitake.

"Some outward sign of approval apparently," the white-haired captain responded in a similar tone.

"He did know what he was doing, right?" Matsumoto asked, threading her fingers through her hair nervously. Hitsugaya stopped her mid-motion, wrapping his fingers around hers. She glanced appreciatively at him and then quickly back to the dais as a surprised gasp rippled across the assembled crowd.

Shunsui and Nanao had opened their eyes, staring at each other. Unable to read their expressions the audience watched as they returned their respective weapons to their sheaths delicately. A wind whipped across the square, ripping fans out of unsuspecting spectators. It moved to circle the couple, visible only by the blossoms that seemed to dance with glee as it whipped around the couple. Their clothes were caught in its embrace; it freed Nanao's hair from its confines so that it caressed Shunsui's face. Shunsui let out a euphoric laugh and Nanao reached for him.

When they kissed, golden violet sparks erupted between them.

The crowed went wild.

"Don't get any ideas," Hitsugaya muttered. Matsumoto's hand tightened around his as she tearfully watched her friends embrace.

"No," Matsumoto agreed. Marriage would come one day but for now she was just enjoying being with the man beside her. "I'm not the marrying type."

Hitsugaya frowned deeply as he stared at the happy couple descending the staircase. Matsumoto had no intention of ever marrying him?

The strawberry-blonde tried valiantly to quell her devious smile as she sensed the confusion emanating from her Taichō. She had planted the thought in his brain. Now the rest was up to him.

- - -

Shunsui wrapped his arm around Nanao's waist. He drew her to her side as they walked through the quiet streets of the Seireitei toward the Eighth Division. In the distance, the mingled sounds of the continuing celebration were carried to them on the early summer breeze.

"I love you, Kyōraku-fukutaicho," Shunsui said with a smile, gazing down at his beautiful wife. The thought made him want to sing. But he quelled the impulse for he knew Nanao would not appreciate it.

Nanao looked up at her new husband, surprised by his sudden formality. "Are you finally going to give me the respect I deserve?" she asked playfully.

"No, you'll always be Nanao-chan to me," Shunsui replied with a grin. "But I am rather fond of the name change."

"I never said I was going to take your name," Nanao reminded him. He laughed, his hand tracing circles on her hip.

"Amusing as always, my clever Nanao-chan," he returned. "But I think it may already be too late to decide against taking my name," he stated as they finally stopped outside their office door. The weathered nameplate had already been replaced. It now read

**Eighth Division**

**Kyōraku Shunsui: Taichō**

**Kyōraku Nanao: Fukutaichō**

"I suppose it's not so horrible," Nanao remarked. Her heart gave one joyous thud as she looked at the shining brass plate.

"Of course not, there are all sorts of advantages to being a Kyōraku," Shunsui said evenly.

"Such as?" Nanao asked dryly.

"Increased stamina," Shunsui replied, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. "For as you know my Nanao-chan, celebrations in the noble house of Kyōraku start at least three hours prior to the event and last―

"Well into the early hours of the morning," Nanao finished for him as he kicked open the door.

Shunsui kissed his wife ardently as he carried his family over the threshold. It would be the same one they would cross together…tomorrow and after.

**The End**

* * *

A/N: Well, there you have it folks. It's been a great honor to have you wonderful people read and review my work. This is probably the last story I will post on my own because once Points in the Right Direction is finished, I am planning on writing some original fiction. Thank you very much for your support and I hope you're willing to give me one final review.


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